


An Unorthodox Offer

by AngeliaDark



Series: An Unorthodox Offer [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Ecto-Genitalia, Gaster Loves His Boys, M/M, Papyrus Is Spoiled, Sans Is Somewhat Reluctant, Sugar Baby Papyrus, Sugar Baby Sans, Sugar Daddy AU, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Voyeurism, cross-dressing, hint of Sansby, sexual favors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 19:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 52,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7770670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeliaDark/pseuds/AngeliaDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans loses his job, and with himself and a little brother to support, takes up a most unorthodox offer from the wealthy owner of the lab he used to work at.  Now if only he could keep from dragging Papyrus into this mess...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Proposition

Sans was no stranger to the phrase 'life isn't fair'.

Life wasn't fair when his parents fell down, leaving him to raise a little brother on his own.

Life wasn't fair when the lab he was interning at cut his hours and he had to begin taking out loans just to make ends meet.

And life wasn't fair when he had to make the biggest ass of himself, right when the owner of G-Labs Incorporated came for an inspection and walk-through.

...and by 'biggest ass', he meant being so distracted by the owner being announced that he tripped over his own two feet, crashed into a paneling, unhooked scores of intricate plug-ins to the wall, and made the machine they had been working on crash and fizzle out, all within a span of five seconds.

There was dead silence as all eyes turned to him, and Sans swore he smelled his own dust pile as his supervisor stalked over with blood in his eye and the proclamation of 'YOU'RE FIRED' on his tongue.

“Now now, everyone settle down...”

Sans looked up—way up—and saw someone standing over him, smiling down genially.

The owner of G-Labs, Dr. Wingdings Gaster. He'd heard rumors of the reclusive scientist, but now Sans was looking and SEEING that Gaster was a Skeleton, just like him, albeit much taller and certainly older. The doctor gave Sans a warm smile, waving his hand and easing Sans up by a gentle hold on the soul.

“I'm sure it was an accident,” Gaster said, his voice soft and low. “Machines can be rebuilt and results repeated, if they are done correctly. I was already impressed with the work as it was.”

His words seemed to calm the group that would have no doubt turned into an ugly mob otherwise, and the scientists began tidying up, muttering apologies and promises of quicker results as Gaster gave Sans another smile and seemed to glide out of the room with long, elegant strides.

And, of course, the moment Gaster was gone, Sans was laid into by his supervisor, given a ten-minute play-by-play spiel over Sans's five-second misstep, and had his intern badge torn from his shirt with the anticipated 'YOU'RE FIRED' finally thrown at him.

Yes. Life was not fair.

Just as unfair as it would be that he had to be the one to tell Papyrus the bad news later that day.

Sans fought back tears of frustration as he stuffed his few belongings from his work locker into his bag, sighing as he left the building, and left his dreams of one day being a full-time worker there behind with it as he started on his long walk home.

“Excuse me.”

Sans froze on the spot, feeling a tall figure step behind him and hearing that soft, smooth voice from before. He clenched his hand around the strap of his bag, peeking around—and up—to see Dr. Gaster smiling down at him. “...uh....h...hello...” Sans stammered, cursing at his uncouth stammering. “...I...I'm sorry, I—“

“There is no need for that now,” Dr. Gaster said, holding up a hand for Sans's silence. “I was only going to inquire if you needed a ride home.” His eyelights flicked upwards. “It is about to rain, and the next bus does not get here for another half-hour. It is of no trouble to me.”

Sans weighed his options, knowing that the polite thing to do was decline, but after such a shitty day, he felt he deserved SOME good out of it, especially if this was the last chance he'd get to see Dr. Gaster in person again. “...yeah...um, yes, thank you,” he said quietly, almost jumping when Dr. Gaster put a hand on his shoulder and gently steered him toward a waiting car—a small limo, it looked like.

“You are welcome,” Dr. Gaster replied, keeping his hold on Sans's shoulder as he opened the door and allowed Sans to get in before climbing in after him, shutting the door and sitting back quietly.

Sans looked around; it was nothing OVERLY fancy, but it was still quite a sight to behold anyway. He'd never been in a limo before, and couldn't help but stare at most everything.

“Where do you live?” Dr. Gaster asked, and Sans fought down a flush of shame at having to have Dr. Gaster SEE where he lived.

“...uhm....East District, down by th' school,” Sans said, staring at his lap. The East District was the poorest of the districts, but it was right by the high school where Papyrus went, and all he could afford while making sure Papyrus was cared for, too.

Dr. Gaster didn't seem bothered by it, and instead gave the signal for his driver to go, sitting back as the car headed off. Sans sat there quietly, not knowing what to say, or what to do now.

“...I couldn't help but overhear the unfortunate news of your termination,” Dr. Gaster spoke up, causing Sans to flinch and clench his hands into his khakis. “Are you going to be alright?”

Sans should have answered 'yes, of course'. He should have assured Dr. Gaster that he would find a new job, thank him for the concern and the ride home, and that would be that.

Instead, Sans found himself choking back sobs and burying his face in his hands, feeling like his world was crumbling around him with no way to stop it. He had no job, piles of bills, a little brother who needed taking care of, and now no means to do ANY of it. He cried into his hands, too drained, too depressed, too low to even care that he was having a meltdown in front of the doctor.

After a few moments, he felt arms encircle him and pull him to a warm body, the gesture so comforting and inviting that Sans couldn't help but accept it and finish his meltdown in Dr. Gaster's arms until he was all cried out.

All he could hear was the soft hum of the engine and the rain pattering against the car, feeling Dr. Gaster rub a hand comfortingly over his scapulae. He let out one last shaky sigh before all the sobbing was gone, and just rested there tiredly, too exhausted to even consider being humiliated by this point.

“Feeling better?” Dr. Gaster asked, and Sans could only nod. “Good.” The hand on Sans's back slid up to instead pet the back of his skull. “I am not simply saying this out of pity,” Dr. Gaster continued. “But because I make it my business to look up everyone who works from me, from the heads of departments to the janitors...and I want to help you.”

Sans rubbed his eye sockets, glancing up to see Dr. Gaster giving him a smile. A hint of blue dusted his cheekbones. “...um....wha....why would...?”

“I empathize greatly with a young Skeleton Monster trying his best to make ends meet,” Dr. Gaster said. “And to do it all by yourself is admirable.” He raised a hand and brushed off some tears from Sans's face. “And so, if you are agreeable, I want to ease your burden and get you on a proper track into the field of your choice.”

Sans floundered for something—anything—to say, but only felt another rush of emotion wash over him. “I...I don't....know what to say...” he stammered, and felt a shudder when Dr. Gaster's hand stroked down his spine in a gesture that seemed more intimate than comforting.

“Say you'll give it some thought,” Dr. Gaster said, looking up when the car came to a stop, reaching into his pocket and taking out a card, handing it to Sans. “Call if you are agreeable, disregard it if you are not. I will not be offended either way.” He smiled as Sans looked at the card and turned to the car door to open it, then leaned over and pressed his teeth to Sans's skull.

“Though, I personally hope you are agreeable.”

Sans's face turned blue as the car door was shut and the car took off down the street, standing there with his bag, the card, and a skull full of non-too-innocent implications of what exactly it was Dr. Gaster wanted in return for 'helping'.

 


	2. The Arrangements

It was eleven-forty, well after Papyrus was fed and put to bed, and Sans was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of scotch he could never be able to afford (it was his gift at last year's secret gift swap and he hadn't touched it before tonight) and Dr. Gaster's number on a card that was staring him in the face.

He tried again and again to tell himself that the doctor wasn't insinuating what Sans thought he was, but each time, he was coming up with the same result.

Dr. Gaster was propositioning him for sex.

He would never have pegged Dr. Gaster as a Monster who would do such a thing, let alone PAY for it. As wealthy as the man was, he could have anyone who offered for FREE. So what was his angle? What was the POINT?

He almost felt offended by the proposition, if the meltdown he had in the doctor's car hadn't put the desperation into his mind. And it wasn't like he WASN'T desperate. Across the table was a pile of bills, a note on the message pad from a debt collector, and a letter from Papyrus's school saying that funds were needed Papyrus's basketball uniform if he was going to be on the team this season.

He had no job, and massive amounts of things he needed to take care of, with no means to do it.

So yes. He was desperate.

But...desperate enough for THIS?

The mental calculation of every bit of money Sans owed and needed right at this very moment told him he was desperate enough for ANYTHING. It was unrealistic to think that he could get a job that paid well enough to cut down the bills as soon as he needed to, and like most Monsters who lived in this District, he knew he had to do something he didn't really want to do, just to make ends meet.

Sans drained his glass of scotch in one go, using it as his last shot of courage before picking up the card and dialing the number that was on it, his hand shaking as he heard the line on the other end ring once.

Twice.

Three times and Sans almost hung up entirely when a soft, smooth voice answered, “Hello?”

Sans's hand shook harder; for Dr. Gaster HIMSELF to pick up, this had to be his PERSONAL number. Oh gods. “...h...hello,” Sans replied, his voice shaking as badly as his hand. “It's....it's me...Sans, that is....I...” Oh shit, what was he even DOING—

“Hello, Sans,” Dr. Gaster answered back casually, as though this was a friendly call instead of what it TRULY was. “I've been waiting to hear back from you. I'm glad you called.”

“...you are?” Sans shifted in his chair, trying not to blush like a goddamn schoolgirl over this whole mess. “I...w...well, I...”

“Calm down, Sans,” Dr. Gaster said quietly, his voice soothingly calming. “It is nothing to work yourself up over and nothing to get into right away. I'm more than aware of how difficult this must be for you, and I am willing to accommodate as needed.” There was the sound of paper rustling in the background. “I would like to speak with you in depth about our arrangement tomorrow, during your normal work hours. Would that be fine?”

It certainly WOULD, considering Sans didn't want Papyrus to know ANYTHING, from him being fired to what he was going to be doing for money now. Sans nodded, even though Dr. Gaster couldn't see. “...that's fine,” he replied.

“Good,” Dr. Gaster said, and Sans could SEE that genial smile on the older Skeleton's face in his mind's eye. “For discretion's sake, do you have someplace I can pick you up?”

Sans rubbed his eye sockets, starting to feel lightheaded from nerves and the scotch. “Uh....yeah, can...you pick me up at th' bus depot? It's a quarter-mile from my house....”

“Not a problem,” Dr. Gaster replied. “Tomorrow, at the bus depot, eight am. I look forward to seeing you again.”

“Uhm....me...me too,” Sans stammered, his face going blue. “....night...”

“Goodnight, Sans. Pleasant dreams.”

_Click_

Sans shakily put his phone down, staring out at nothing, hardly believing that he had done it. He made arrangements to do this. This was happening.

….he needed more scotch.

* * *

 

Sans waved to Papyrus as the younger Skeleton dashed off to school, his hand dropping to his side the moment Papyrus was out of sight. There was no joy this morning, knowing what he was going to be doing in just a short time.

_'You're doing it for him,'_ he thought to himself as he gathered his things and headed out of his house, his legs shaking as he made his way to the bus depot. _'You're doing it for him.'_

He sat down on a bench, his hands wringing nervously until bones scraped painfully, checking his watch. 7:45. 7:50. 7:55.

Was he even coming? Was this just a huge, elaborate joke? Sans wouldn't put it past his luck to rule it out entirely. He sighed, leaning back as eight am rolled by and nothing. He debated going home and sleeping forever when a familiar black car drove in, coming to a spot a sport distance from him. He sat up straight, staring at it until the back window rolled down just enough for Sans to see Dr. Gaster's skull, that being all the hint he needed that his ride was here.

He hadn't really expected Dr. Gaster to come here himself; send a ride, yeah, but this was...weird. Sans walked over to the car, and Dr. Gaster opened the door for him, leaning out of the way so Sans could get in and sit down before closing it again.

“Good morning,” Dr. Gaster said, sounding chipper. “I could only assume you didn't have your coffee, so I brought some for you.” He handed Sans a cup of coffee from the cafe up in the North District, the aroma alone waking Sans up more and almost making him salivate.

Still, he remembered his manners and took the cup in his hands. “...thank you,” he said, giving it a sip, sighing softly at the wonderful taste. “It's good.”

Dr. Gaster smiled, sitting back. “I thought you would think so,” he replied, folding his hands in his lap. “I do not know what you like to eat for breakfast, so I decided to save that for later.”

Sans glanced up, confused. “...later?”

“For lunch. While we discuss our arrangement. For now, enjoy your coffee.”

He delved into silence, and Sans followed suit, sipping his coffee quietly as he stared out the window, the scenery going from his familiar East District to the more posh location of the North District. Houses easily a hundred times nicer than his own passed until the car slowed down, turning into a more secluded area surrounded by trees and lovely hills.

“...where are we going?” Sans asked cautiously, afraid to to offend. No offense taken, Gaster just smiled.

“My home,” he said, looking out the window as what could only be described as a mansion came into view, at least three stories tall, two wings, and everything. Sans gaped at it as it drew closer, amazed at how much LARGER it was up close. It was beautiful to behold, and Sans had to be snapped out of his stupor by Dr. Gaster, who put a hand on his shoulder.

“...er....s...sorry...”

“Don't be,” Dr. Gaster replied, smiling. “It CAN be a bit overwhelming, I know. I thought the same thing when I first came home when it was finished being built. The inside is much less archaic and drastic, I promise.” He led the way into the house, and Sans was surprised to see that there were no servants as he expected. But Dr. Gaster had been right; the inside WAS very simple and modernized, very sensible, as Sans figured.

Dr. Gaster walked through some halls before coming to a study, which was more classic with floor-to-ceiling shelves full of books lining the walls. In the middle of the room was a set of nice seats, which Dr. Gaster led Sans to for him to pick out and sit down. Sans chose the armchair, sitting down and wringing his hands, trying not to stare at everything as the doctor sat down across from him, folding his hands elegantly onto his lap.

“Perhaps I should have been a bit more clear about my intentions,” Dr. Gaster said, his smile apologetic. “I imagine you thought of my offer as one of...ill repute.”

Sans's face turned blue. “Uhh...yeah,” he replied. “That about sums up my thoughts.” And now he felt like an ass for assuming such.

“Well...my offer is one that may seem...unorthodox, but it is not too far off from that,” Dr. Gaster said.

_'Oh fuck what now?!'_ “Um...what...do you mean?” Sans asked cautiously, leaning back slightly with trepidation in his voice. Dr. Gaster was silent for a good long moment before tenting his fingertips, leaning forward and looking Sans in the eyelights.

“For decades now, my work has been my life,” he finally said. “I never had the inclination for marriage, nor for children, and for the most part I was happy with my life. But now I find myself getting on in years, with more money than I know what to do with, and quite alone with no one to spend it on.”

His smile broadened, looking almost embarrassed. “I've been mulling over my whims for some time...and it would please me to no end to spoil a young Skeleton like yourself...provided he in return provide me with his company.”

Sans stared at the doctor, not quite sure exactly WHAT was being asked of him. “I...don't entirely understand...” he said quietly. “You...want to PAY me for my company?”

“In a way, yes,” Dr. Gaster replied. “I will take care of your debts, your further schooling, and anything else within reason you desire...and in return, you provide me with company and pleasure.”

All Sans could do was continue to stare until it became impossible to remain quiet. “B...but....why?” he finally said. “It...just doesn't make sense to me...”

“I am aware,” Dr. Gaster said, giving Sans the barest hint of a shrug. “I often do not understand my own whims, but it is what it is.” He went silent for a moment before standing from his chair and walking over to his desk, picking up a small packet of paper and walking back over to Sans, handing it to him. “My terms are in writing so there are no unpleasant surprises. I am more than willing to give you complete discretion in this matter, as well as dignity and respect. Whatever terms you have, I wish to hear out. But you'll find that everything I've told you is there in writing.”

Sans glanced down at the paper, which was written up like a mission statement rather than a contract at first glance, but he would really have to look over it and write up his own terms into it...

….oh gods, was he really considering this?

“I understand that you need some time to properly look it over,” Dr. Gaster said, stepping back. “Would you like to join me for brunch? I imagine you would be able to think better fed, rather than hungry.”

Sans let out a sigh, nodding.

“...yeah,” he said. “...I could eat.”

* * *

 

Brunch in the private dining room—a very modern set-up in a small dining area that had walls made of windows to give a lovely view of the back courtyard—was quiet while Sans looked over the papers as Dr. Gaster checked over his own work on a tablet.

Sans barely got four bites in as he read, hardly able to believe that this was real....and really this SIMPLE.

Exactly as Dr. Gaster had said, here in writing, he would give Sans a stipend to use as he wished in a private account, as well as pay for the classes Sans needed to become qualified for work in one of Dr. Gaster's—MANY—labs. And in return, Sans would provide Dr. Gaster with company for dinners, accompany him to events, and, of course, provide sexual favors for him.

Even for it basically being a sex contract, it was pretty cut clean and VERY tempting. Sans would be given enough money to pay his debts, be put through the schooling he needed...and definitely have more than enough left over to spend on Papyrus, and in return, all Dr. Gaster wanted was company, both sexual and casual.

It was almost too good to be true.

“...this is too good to be true,” he finally muttered, leaning his head on his hand and staring at the line at the bottom of the last page that only required his consensual signature. “I...I mean...this is too good...to GENEROUS...just....why....?”

Across the table, Dr. Gaster put his tablet down and folded his hands in front of him. “I explained my reasons, and did not exclude anything,” he replied patiently. “I understand your confusion, truly I do. But I did mean it when I said I wished for someone to take care of and be with.”

Sans rubbed his eye sockets. “So...why not...I dunno...find a boyfriend, or a spouse or something...?” he asked. Dr. Gaster chuckled softly, his smile teasing.

“That sort if IS what I'm doing, isn't it?” He laughed harder at Sans's expression. “It was a joke, Sans, relax.” He raised his folded hands, making a resting place for his mandible as he gave Sans a softer look.

“...I thought this up myself in a matter of minutes, as I held you while you cried in my car,” he continued. “I DO wish for company, but what good is the company of someone who would only be after my fortune? And in any case...we Skeletons are a rare breed...I have not seen another in this part of the country for quite some time...and I naturally have a soft spot for someone who reminds me so much of myself. From my observation, you are intelligent, dedicated, and humble...and it is something I wish to nurture and be around.”

His smile broadened slightly. “...not to mention...if YOU did not want to be nurtured with a sense of security and familiarity....you would not be seriously considering this. I consider it...a fair, even deal.”

Sans's cheekbones went hot, realizing that this arrangement...being out of debt, taken care of, ACKNOWLEDGED....it WAS something he really wanted. He put his hands over his face, letting out a shaky sigh. “...oh gods, what am I even doing...?” he murmured to himself.

Dr Gaster just sat there patiently until Sans got a grip on his emotions and sat back. “...confidentiality, a set stipend, and terms of my own,” he recanted back to the doctor, who gave him a nod. Sans drummed his fingers lightly on the table. “....do you have a—?” He squirmed when Dr. Gaster waved his hand and summoned a small pack of nice paper and a fountain pen with his magic, and quelled down his blushing as he took the pen and began shakily writing down his own terms.

_**COMPLETE confidentiality.** _

_**I don't take calls before eight.** _

_**Twenty-four hour's notice before any big decision.** _

_**I can only spend two nights a week away from home.** _

_**Saturdays off, NO EXCEPTIONS.** _

_**NO means NO.** _

_**A two-week's notice if my services are no longer wanted.** _

_**I keep what I buy when the above occurs.** _

_**COMPLETE CONFIDENTIALITY.** _

Sans finished writing, sliding the paper over to Dr. Gaster, who took a few moments to look it over. The doctor smiled, setting it down. “That's all?” he asked. “It seems a bit minimum.”

“Minimum? Like how? It covers all my bases,” Sans replied, confused. Dr. Gaster shrugged a little, looking it over again.

“No stipend amount request, no desire for different residency, no preference for sexual activities,” Dr. Gaster listed on before smiling up at Sans. “Humble, indeed.” He sat back. “I agree to all of them.” He picked up the pen, signing his name at the bottom with a flourish before setting the pen down. “The choice is now yours, Sans.”

Sans's fingers twitched as he stared at the pen for several long moments before he reached over and picked it up, the tip of the pen resting on the line for only a moment before he signed his name. He exhaled heavily, sitting back and feeling drained just from that alone.

“...so, what now?” he asked. Dr. Gaster just neatly stacked the papers before picking up his tea and sipping it.

“You requested a twenty-four hour notice for my decisions,” he replied simply. “NOW, we finish our food. Tomorrow, I will send a car for you, and you will return here so I may enjoy your company.” He smiled. “Sound fair?”

Sans nodded, quietly picking up his fork to finish his food.

“...yeah...sounds fair.”

 


	3. The First Experience

Sans wasn't entirely sure when it was morning again, but his busy mind seemed to short out from nerves sometime between brunch and going to sleep. And it was while he was getting dressed for the day in his usual khakis and button-up shirt that it hit him that this was his first official day of 'work'.

That thought jittered his nerves as he watched Papyrus flit around the house getting everything ready for school. “...y'got everything, Paps?” he asked, fighting to keep from checking his watch or his cell phone.

Papyrus beamed, grabbing his backpack. “I sure am!” he exclaimed. “Today is the fitness test, and I know for SURE that I'm going to pass!”

Sans smiled, his nerves calming slightly; Papyrus's enthusiasm really was more cheerful than a sunny day. “I know it too, bro,” he said. “Goin' for the top spot?”

“I can try,” Papyrus replied humbly, fishing an apple from the fridge. “I'll see you later, brother!” He waved, running out the door and off toward school. Sans smiled after his brother, his shoulder slumping slightly.

_Do it for him_ , he thought to himself as he gathered up his things and headed out toward the bus depot.

* * *

 

He took the trip to Dr. Gaster's place alone that day, glad that the driver minded his own business and tried to not lose his nerve at the sight of the mansion again. He muttered a thanks to the driver as he got out and cautiously walked up the steps and was about to knock on the door when his cell phone buzzed in a text.

_**COME RIGHT IN, I AM IN THE STUDY** _

Sans flexed his hands before walking into the mansion, beelining right for the study from memory and found the door wide open for him. He peeked inside, seeing Dr. Gaster at his desk looking through a few things, and wondered if he should knock, make a sound, something to announce his presence.

Dr. Gaster smiled to himself. “Please, come in,” he said, not looking up from the papers. “You needn't wait for me, Sans. Consider my home as your workplace, with clearance for any room you wish. My front door remains unlocked in the daytime while I'm home anyway.” He gathered up a few things, standing and walking over to the chairs in the middle of the room, sitting down as Sans walked in and took a seat himself. “How are you this morning?”

Sans wrung his hands tightly. “....nervous as hell,” he admitted. “I've...never really done anything like this...and I don't know what to expect.”

Dr. Gaster gave him a reassuring smile. “I understand,” he replied. “And I'm more than willing to go slow for this first week. That's why I wish to simply have you in my company for now, so you can get comfortable being with me. We can start with meals together. Does that sound fair?”

MORE than fair, Sans thought to himself as he gave Dr. Gaster a nod. The doctor nodded back and stood again, holding out his hand. “Then let's go eat breakfast, and I'll give you a few things to start you off with.”

Sans hesitated for only a moment before putting his hand in Dr. Gaster's, standing and blushing dark blue as the doctor led him by the hand to the dining room, even pulling out his chair to sit him down. He didn't know if it was fluster or embarrassment, but his blushing didn't quell in the slightest, something that Dr. Gaster seemed pleased by.

“What would you like to eat?” Dr. Gaster asked.

Sans ducked his head. “...a tall glass of scotch, hold the ice?”

Dr. Gaster chuckled. “Not before noon, personal rule,” he replied, his voice teasing. “How does croissants and coffee sound to start with?”

“....sure.”

Sans sat back as the doctor put the order through on his tablet to the kitchen, the one luxury splurge he seemed to allow himself—Sans honestly couldn't see Dr. Gaster cooking his own meals, to be honest—and then turn to the small stack of things on the table. “This is your account card and information,” Dr. Gaster said, sliding the stack over. “Your stipend is already inside and ready for your use.”

Sans looked at the card and had a brief moment of shock when he saw his name splayed over the silver surface. He had to force himself to put it down before he dropped it, and took a deep breath before letting it out. “...thank you,” he said quietly, sitting up straight when a Monster servant quietly brought in the coffee and poured it out before leaving to fetch the croissants.

Dr. Gaster sipped his, smiling softly. “After breakfast, would you like to have a tour of the house?” he asked. “After all, you will be frequenting it.”

Sans sipped his own coffee, allowing his senses to become indulged in the wonderful brew to calm himself down.

“....sure.”

* * *

 

If he was being perfectly honest, Sans didn't know how fast the day went because of how much he had actually enjoyed himself. After breakfast, Dr. Gaster led the tour of his mansion, taking the time to let Sans remember when he next came over. He deliberately skipped past one of the only closed rooms, explaining that it was his bedroom and didn't want Sans to feel anxious or rushed.

Sans felt a twinge of gratitude for the gesture, and kept his mind off of it while he enjoyed the house. He was especially fond of the labs in the basement that Dr. Gaster promised he could utilize at some point, and the backyard grounds were calming to walk around in.

Dr. Gaster chatted the entire time, talking about the customization of the grounds in detail, sometimes gesturing with his hands when there was a favored point of interest. Sans found himself enjoying THAT the best; it was odd seeing Dr. Gaster enthused about anything, and the hand-gesturing was almost endearing.

It provided a great comfortable distraction of sorts, enough that it wasn't until much later that Sans realized that for much of the tour, Dr. Gaster had a hand either on Sans's shoulder, or resting atop his spine the whole time...and Sans was fine with it.

That alone was surprising enough for him, but he did suppose that getting used to the doctor's presence and touch would be the first step towards future intimacy.

A part of him was still shaken by that fact, that sometime soon he would be sleeping with Dr. Gaster...and another part, one that was bone-tired and a little selfish, was saying that if it was going to happen, he might as well enjoy it. Hell, he was getting paid for it too, and if discretion, a mansion for privacy, and actually getting laid for the first time in forever was happening, all the better it was with someone as aesthetically-pleasing as Dr. Gaster.

It was going to be a very delicate balance of selfish (his own carnal urges and desire for someone else taking the lead) and unselfish (the need for Papyrus's well-being and happiness), but Sans was determined to somehow make it work.

* * *

 

He wasn't too surprised when the time for the sexual favors came; he had spent five days in Dr. Gaster's company with progressing levels of physical contact, culminating to taking a midday snooze with his head on Dr. Gaster's lap while the taller Skeleton read through a book and petted at his head and back.

Sans was almost completely comfortable with Dr. Gaster's touch now, and found he rather liked it. He was still flustered at the contact, and knew that it was his (somewhat embarrassing) first-sight crush on the Skeleton paired with the knowledge that they WOULD become intimate soon.

And 'soon' quickly became 'tonight'.

It was Sunday evening, and Sans was fidgety as he finished up dinner, wishing he hadn't refused that second glass of wine to calm his nerves now. It was not overlooked by Dr. Gaster, who took Sans by the hand and led him to a cozy den of sorts, the kind of place Sans could easily see the older Skeleton taking a few books and a pot of coffee to read the day away.

There was a fire burning in the large fireplace and a minibar cart next to a large love seat that also had an assortment of sweets on it, the image almost sickeningly ROMANTIC, but Sans wouldn't deny that the little fudge squares DID look appetizing. Dr. Gaster led him to the love seat, sitting him down before settling next to him, picking up the tray of fudge as though he had been reading Sans's mind.

“Help yourself,” he said, offering the tray to Sans. Sans's fingers fidgeted for a moment before taking one, figuring 'what the hell' as he bit into it, almost moaning with delight at the taste. Dr. Gaster gave him an amused smile, setting the tray back down on the cart. “I thought you might like that,” he said, watching Sans finish the rest of it before sliding his fingers under Sans's mandible to tilt his skull up slightly. “It's sure to make things...sweeter.”

Sans barely had time to appreciate the masterfully-set up pun before Dr. Gaster leaned down and pressed their teeth together, all thought being tossed out the window as he tried to register that he was being kissed.

Dr. Gaster's magic had a deep, gentle pulse that felt soothing against Sans's bones, coaxing him into a relaxed state with his frayed nerves smoothing over and his hesitation sifting away. It was....nice. BETTER than nice, even.

It was fucking AMAZING.

It wasn't Sans's first kiss, not by a LONG shot, but he supposed being kissed by someone of his own species, let alone a Monster he legitimately had a crush on, would give him an extra spark of need and pleasure. He found himself leaning in and reciprocating without much prodding, immersing himself in the moment without torturing himself with the reasons WHY.

He shuddered when a solid construct of magic swiped across his teeth, not even having to look to know that Dr. Gaster had formed a tongue, and was surprised that the taller Skeleton could summon his magic in such a way so soon. It made him wonder just how long Dr. Gaster was prepared for this, but only had to ponder it over for a few seconds before that tongue had slithered between his teeth and sparked his own magic into reciprocating. His mouth tingled with magic half a moment before he formed a tongue of his own, a shudder running down his spine when the two curled around each other.

His hands scrambled for purchase, clasping onto Dr. Gaster's shirt and clinging for dear life as the taller Skeleton pulled him closer and into his lap. He would've been embarrassed by the gesture, if the doctor's hands weren't brushing over every sensitive bone, finding every tensed spot that was relaxed with with an insistent brush of fingers, and oh gods, Sans was fantasizing about those hands already—

Sans was pulled out of the beginning of a no-doubt torrid fantasy when Dr. Gaster leaned back, slithering his purple-tinged tongue back between his own teeth, one hand reaching up and brushing over Sans's cheekbone. “Was that to your liking, Sans?” he asked, his voice slightly teasing but still soft and genuine. Sans shifted a little, his eyelights glancing away shyly as he gave the barest hint of a nod. “Then would you object if I moved this along a little?”

A surge of anxiety crawled up Sans's spine, but Dr. Gaster's fingers sliding down to brush over the top of his sacrum made that anxiety swan-dive back down and pool into arousal, the bright blue flush on his cheekbones being answer enough, but the doctor did nothing else until Sans shook his head.

“...I...don't object,” Sans replied, flexing his hands into Dr. Gaster's shirt tighter. The doctor smiled and kissed Sans again before holding Sans to him close and shifting himself around so Sans was lying back on the love seat and he was kneeling over him. Their kiss was broken in lieu of Dr. Gaster scraping his teeth over Sans's mandible and down to his cervical vertebrae and clavicle, reaching up and undoing buttons as he went.

Sans bit back whimpers and undignified moans, hardly able to focus on anything besides Gaster's teeth scraping against his bones and the doctor's elegant hands undressing him and brushing over tensed spots to relax them. He wasn't even keeping track of what was happening as a whole until Dr. Gaster's tongue began tracing the disks of his spine, and then he was unable to keep quiet.

Dr. Gaster's purple eyelights flickered up to watch him as he worked his way lower down Sans's spine, his grin broadening when he saw the smaller Skeleton try to muffle himself by stuffing his sleeve between his teeth. He would have none of that. He reached up and pulled Sans's arm down, brushing his fingers over the bones before lacing their fingers together, lifting his head slightly.

“None of that, Sans,” he purred. “Let me hear you. I need feedback from you, and you can't do that gagged.” He chuckled at the embarrassed mewl the smaller Skeleton let out and ducked his head back down, using his free hand to undo Sans's pants and shimmy them open enough for access to Sans's pelvis. Already Sans's magic was coalescing but still looking like it was wondering what form to actually take.

He glanced up, seeing Sans's abashed expression, and smiled. How adorable. “I am fine with anything you prefer, Sans,” he said before leaning his head back down and stimulating the budding magic with his tongue.

Sans arched his hips hard, letting out a strangled squeal he quickly bit back as he covered his face with his arm, clenching his jaws shut as tightly as he could to muffle any other sound. Dr. Gaster didn't make it easier, teasing at his magic and egging it on to form into a short, thick tendril-like appendage that was quickly engulfed by Dr. Gaster's mouth.

His vision went static, dropping his head back on the love seat hard as Dr. Gaster's head ducked down lower, feeling a tongue curl around him while hands brushed over his sensitive bones. Oh GODS, he was not going to last long at this rate—

A particularly sharp flex of Dr. Gaster's tongue proved him right, his hips arching off the love seat as he came, unable to muffle his loud moans at this point. He collapsed back on the love seat, his bones twitching as the last flickers of pleasure spasms bled out of his system. His senses returned somewhat, and he could feel the embarrassment creeping up but he had little time to fully immerse in his embarrassment before Dr. Gaster pulled him up close and kissed him again.

“Pleasure is nothing to be embarrassed about,” he murmured against Sans's teeth. “And I rather enjoyed it...” He gently held Sans's hand and guided it lower to the front of his pants, where Sans could feel a definite bulging straining through. Dr. Gaster kissed Sans again, skillfully maneuvering Sans's phalanges to the fastenings of his pants and slid his hand up Sans's arm to curl around the smaller Skeleton's shoulders when Sans took the cautious initiative himself.

Sans leaned into Dr. Gaster's kiss as he blindly undid the doctor's pants, his hand twitching when he felt a tendril of magic press against it. Just from touch alone, he guesstimated it to be decently-sizable and his fantasies began to form again as he curled his hand around it and began stroking it slowly.

Dr. Gaster growled softly, the sound vibrating his bones as Sans stroked him, rocking his hips to Sans's hand faster as he held the smaller Skeleton to him tightly. Sans's hand flexed around him as he stroked, becoming more sure and confident and bringing him closer to orgasm—

He broke their kiss, scraping his teeth over Sans's jaw as he let out a guttural groan, cumming in Sans's hand and satisfying days of waiting for this moment. He sighed heavily, pressing small kisses to Sans's face as his magic settled and dispersed, smiling at the brilliant blue flush over the small Skeleton's skull. “You did wonderfully,” he breathed, pressing his teeth to Sans's again before leaning back and relaxing, wanting to enjoy the afterglow of his orgasm in silence.

Sans sat stiffly for a moment, not knowing what to do after something like this, but went for broke and leaned his head against Dr. Gaster's shoulder, emotionally drained after all day of anticipating this moment and just wanting some rest. His gamble was well-paid, feeling Dr. Gaster's hand rest on the back of his skull, gently petting and sending him into a lull.

“You did so well,” Dr. Gaster murmured, nuzzling Sans's skull. “Such a good boy...you're so wonderful...” He smiled when Sans buried his face into his shoulder shyly. He wasn't worried; he was sure Sans hadn't had much in the way of being showered in praises, but he was going to change that.

“Um....” Sans murmured after a few minutes, not looking up. “...what do I...?” Dr. Gaster laughed softly, petting Sans's back.

“You are free to stay, or free to go whenever you wish,” he assured. “I am sure your constitution for this is much higher than my own, age considered...”

Sans snorted softly, leaning back and rubbing his still-blue face. “...yer not THAT old,” he muttered.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Dr. Gaster said, kissing Sans's skull. “But really, it HAS been awhile for me...it will take some time to build up virility.” He grinned at the renewed blue on Sans's face. “But there will be plenty of time for that later. Would you like to wash before going home?”

“Uhh...n...nah,” Sans muttered. “...'m not...y'know, THAT dirty or nothin'....”

Dr. Gaster smiled, petting Sans's back. “True,” he replied. “Though when the time comes where you DO become...'dirty', I will be sure to have a change of clothes for you as you wish for after you wash up.” Sans ducked his head, shakily standing from the love seat and quietly fixed his clothes right, though they were still rumpled and unkempt.

“...thank you,” he muttered. “I'll.....I mean, I'll just—“ He was silenced with Dr. Gaster's hand clasping his in a comforting squeeze.

“Goodnight, Sans,” Dr. Gaster said quietly. Sans quietly nodded, squeezing Dr. Gaster's hand back briefly before letting go and heading out.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he barely remembered walking into his house until his door was shut and he was leaning against it.

That had been....

….......admittedly.......

…........amazing.

He shuddered softly, a blush coming back to his face as he headed for his bedroom, already fantasies of those hands—and that tongue—working their way into what was sure to be interesting dreams that night.

 

 


	4. Doubts and Reassurance

It took a good while, but Sans finally had a system worked out that made his work and home lives flow seamlessly, as well as several well-thought-out explanations for Papyrus as to how he was able to afford things they formerly couldn't. 'A promotion' wasn't exactly far from the truth, since he WAS working closer to the owner of the labs, but it seemed to work.

For what it was worth, being able to provide better for Papyrus was making it worth it. He had been tentative with his spending, just making sure his bills were being paid and Papyrus's school fees were taken care of, but when he finally got around to checking his balance on his stipend account, he was glad he didn't have a heart because he was sure he would be having a heart attack.

THAT was his stipend!? He had barely worked through it with his bills and the school fees alone—he could get started on those loans and not have to worry about a thing!

But looking in Papyrus's backpack—his little brother often forgot about permission slips in his excitement to hurry out and practice basketball in the park—and seeing crumpled fliers for field trips—one of which had come and gone without Papyrus saying a word—and another slip that detailed fees for the basketball team, Sans realized that Papyrus had been withholding these things on purpose.

The thought of his loans took a backburner to seeing a paper for a trip into the city to see Mettaton live that Papyrus had all but wadded up. Sans knew that Papyrus was perhaps Mettaton's biggest fan, but this hadn't even been MENTIONED. The fee WAS pricey...but considering what he now had in his stipend account, it was very, VERY doable.

And Papyrus deserved it.

* * *

 

Like every other time, with every other job, Sans threw himself into his work, in all aspects of it. That did, surprisingly, include spending a good few part of his days doing actual work in Dr. Gaster's study for online classes he was signed up for. It seemed that Dr. Gaster wasn't joking when he said he would pay for Sans's schooling, but Sans didn't expect him to take care of EVERYTHING from the transcripts to the online class selections.

It was something Sans was entirely comfortable with, once he started. He forgot how much he enjoyed doing actual work, getting things DONE and feeling good about the results. The fact that he didn't have the stress of tiring work to distract from him was a huge boon, and couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction that he was that much closer to getting his dream PhD despite what those asshole supervisors at the labs thought.

Sans stretched after pressing 'SEND' on the dissertation he had been working on for the past week and leaned back to take a breather. That was it for his work today; Dr. Gaster normally had Sans doing schoolwork in the mornings and reserving the mid-afternoon for personal activities, a system Sans was more than happy with. He glanced at the clock, seeing he had a few minutes to spare before he was officially done with school time, and shut off his laptop to go have a joint-stretching walk.

It was weird, he thought as he walked around the mansion, of how quickly this place was growing on him. It was almost like a second home, not that he'd allow himself to become so comfortable with that fact. This estate in the North District was the polar opposite of his home in the East District, and he wasn't foolish enough to think it would be his one day.

Still, much like a museum, it was something nice to traipse around and admire...UNlike a museum, however, he was welcome to touch and explore anything he wanted. He was still cautious about allowing himself that much indulgence. Years of living beneath his (minimal) means made him wary of frivolously spoiling himself.

It also still made him flustered like a schoolgirl whenever someone else spoiled HIM. Something Dr. Gaster was prone to do.

If the stipend, the prepaid tuition, and the free meals wasn't enough, Dr. Gaster had also gotten him a new computer, new clothing, and a new phone, and he already had to talk the doctor out of giving him a new car but GODS if Dr. Gaster wasn't persistent in finding some way to spoil him.

Food was usually the middle ground they both agreed on. Sans was only half-ashamed to admit some of the best sex he'd had with Dr. Gaster was after a good meal or after he was given a box of gourmet fudge.

Oh gods, that first ACTUAL time....

For a Monster who claimed he wasn't as 'virile' as he once was, Dr. Gaster was quite the beast when clothes came off. He made sure Sans was comfortable before letting loose.

Hellova time for Sans to discover he was a screamer. He would've been more embarrassed about it if Dr. Gaster hadn't made him cum three times before finishing, and by that time he was too worn out and satisfied to CARE.

Sans focused on THAT aspect whenever he could tell it was a day for intimacy, and strove to make sure he had good food and a box of fudge waiting either before or after.

Good job, Sans you got an orgasm, treat yourself to fudge.

Today didn't seem to be one of those days. Dr. Gaster seemed a bit stressed with business work concerning his labs and had barricaded himself in his office to take care of it. Just as a check-up, Sans headed for the office, seeing that the door was cracked and heard Dr. Gaster speaking on the phone. After a moment, Dr. Gaster hung up and sighed before standing and walking out of his office, almost running into Sans en route.

“Oh, goodness, Sans!” he exclaimed, straightening up. “What time is...?” He checked his watch, his expression turning apologetic. “I'm so sorry I kept you waiting, Sans, I got caught up with work.” He leaned down, kissing the top of Sans's skull. “What do you think of dining out?”

“Out?” Sans asked dubiously. “Like...where?”

“I know a wonderfully intimate little place downtown,” Dr. Gaster replied. “It's quiet and the food is sublime.”

Oh DAMN, he had to pull the food card. “That...sounds pretty good,” Sans said, “though, I don't have anything to wear for a swanky place—“

“Not a problem!” Dr. Gaster led him off with a hand on his back. “I have something just for the occasion!” He walked them both to his bedroom and beelined for the closet. Sans stood there awkwardly as Dr. Gaster fished through the closet before coming out with a very nice outfit that Sans didn't even need to try on to know it was a perfect fit. “Here you are.”

Sans's hands flexed for a moment before reaching out and rubbing the fabric between his phalanges. “...yeesh, what's this made of, Spider Monster silk?” he muttered.

“Of course it is,” Dr. Gaster replied, unperturbed. “It's a special place with special company.” He kissed Sans's skull again before handing him the outfit. “I'll go change and we'll head out.” He headed back into his closet, leaving Sans in the bedroom.

Sans looked over the outfit—indeed a very expensive custom-tailored piece—for several long moments before undressing from his normal clothes and pulling it on, shivering a little at the feel of the almost-weightless Spider Monster silk on his bones. This outfit had to cost more than his computer, cell phone, and other outfits combined, and it didn't make sense for Dr. Gaster to have something like THIS custom-made just for a few select occasions, not as expensive as it was.

He straightened the collar of the jacket and looked in the mirror, blue dusting his cheekbones at how damn good he looked in it. Even further examination and shifting in the light showed that it wasn't black, but a dark shade of blue that seemed even bluer in the light.

 _'Damn, I could get used to th—'_ Sans began to think, then squashed it down immediately. No. No, he couldn't. Regular clothes, he could get used to. He already was.

“Are you ready?”

Sans looked up, his blush spreading across his face when he saw Dr. Gaster wearing a matching set to his outfit in pitch black, only he had a purple tie rather than going tieless like Sans. Sans averted his eyelights and nodded, trying to play it casual. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“Good.” Dr. Gaster offered Sans his hand and led him off outside and into a garage where he plucked a set of keys off of a hook and unlocked a sleek black car.

“...we're goin' in this?” Sans asked, eyeing it over with a twinge of covet before opening the passenger door and getting in. Dr. Gaster smiled, getting into the driver's seat and starting it.

“I thought we could be by ourselves today,” he replied, skillfully backing out and driving off. “I do that every once and awhile. I don't have a person for EVERYTHING, you know.” He gave Sans a teasing smile as he drove downtown, sitting in comfortable silence for the rest of the trip there.

Sans reveled in the silence, letting Dr. Gaster do all the work with the driving and getting a seat, and put in his effort when he had to decide what to eat. There were so many choices, but he settled on something—after two baskets of bread—and spent the rest of the meal making small talk with the doctor.

He was surprised that most of the talk was about Sans's studies, his dissertations for the future, and prospective start jobs in one of the labs. Dr. Gaster seemed genuinely interested in Sans's prospective future and what he could do to make that happen, and despite himself, Sans was finding himself telling Dr. Gaster more and more well into the meal and after their after-dessert coffees were drunk.

Sans was finishing up an idea for his future thesis as Dr. Gaster got his card back from paying for the meal, taking a breather as the doctor smiled at him. “...uh...so, yeah...” he muttered, realizing how much he had spoken. “...that's...yeah.”

Dr. Gaster laughed softly, standing. “Oh, don't get shy on me now, Sans,” he teased. “I was rather enjoying myself. Your views are very fresh and welcome, and I can't wait to see it on paper.” He led the way out and gave the valet his ticket before driving on back to his mansion.

Sans remained silent for the ride back, wondering if Dr. Gaster was being facetious or not, and suddenly felt the need to go home and take a nap and possibly rethink his life choices over. He quietly went into the study to tidy up his work area, almost jumping when he felt Dr. Gaster's arms curl around him and pull him back against a broad, solid chest. “Dr. Gaster—“

“You're so smart, Sans,” Dr. Gaster purred, nuzzling the top of Sans's head. “You were wasted as an intern.” His hands brushed over Sans's ribs, reveling in the small Skeleton's shivers. “You're really the whole package, aren't you? Smart...adorable...” He reached up, turning Sans's head. “It's a pleasure to work with you...it really is.” He pressed his teeth to Sans's, holding Sans to him tightly.

Sans let out a breathy moan, always unable to keep from melting from the doctor's kisses. He leaned into the kiss, forming a tongue to curl around Dr. Gaster's, feeling the taller Skeleton rearrange his hands so he was tucking his hands around Sans to lift him into his arms. Sans held onto Dr. Gaster's jacket, not caring where he was being carried off to as he enjoyed the ride into the mansion. He could allow himself to be indulged in ego-boosting any day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, it's a little shorter, but next is the chapter you've all been waiting for! *dramatic drum-rolls*


	5. Enter Papyrus

Papyrus didn't delude himself into thinking he was the sharpest knife in the kitchen drawer, but he knew when things didn't exactly add up.

He could have bought it when his brother said he got a promotion at work; that was more than believable. He knew that Sans was a good, gifted, hard worker that deserved a promotion, so it wasn't that out-there and unbelievable. But he began noticing a few things that didn't add up.

For one, a promotion would naturally mean more work and more responsibility...however, Sans seemed more calm and at ease with his life, seemingly never in a hurry like he once was. And what was more, he never talked about work, even though Papyrus knew Sans desperately desired a job in the labs and would talk about everything he would want to do if he had a real job there.

It was that air of secrecy that bothered Papyrus the most...and not the usual secrecy. Sans was good at hiding certain things, mostly pertaining to their living and financial situation. Papyrus was very much aware of the fact that he and Sans were classified as 'dirt poor'. If living in the lower downtown area of the East District wasn't enough of a tip-off, Papyrus found the piles of bills left on the kitchen table more than once during times he went into the kitchen for a late-night glass of water. Seeing Sans asleep at the table with tax papers laid out and a bottle of caffeine pills next to him wasn't something that was simple to ignore.

Even in the East District, the majority of Papyrus's classmates still had enough money for the various activities and sports they wanted to participate in, and even had pocket money to spend at the arcade further uptown. Papyrus was by no means an envious Monster, but he was also not so indelicate as to ask his brother for anything above the absolute necessities. He hid away fliers in his backpack, kept his mouth shut about fundraisers, and often wracked his memories to remember the last time he asked Sans for money to go see a movie or to go buy something frivolous.

Anything he wanted above the necessities, he had to get himself. He built a swap/trade reputation around his school for things like new comic books or trading cards or even money, primarily around exchanging with favors. It was often tiring and more often than naught degrading, but if it took the excess off of Sans, it was worth it.

NOW, though...he found himself with cash to buy his own lunch, a filled-out form with added check for basketball, and a few new clothes for school...and it was GREAT. BETTER than great.

But also discerning, considering how at-ease Sans was.

It wasn't something he felt he should be looking into all that much, but he couldn't help it. He puzzled over all of the pieces before coming to a conclusion.

Sans was hiding something, and not in the 'brother knows best' way.

And he wanted to find out what.

He got his chance after some observation; the new semester brought in a free first period for him so that he didn't technically NEED to be at the school until nine-thirty, and he got it into his mind to follow Sans. The first time around, he sat and stared as Sans walked to the bus depot and sat down, ignoring the buses that came and went, even his usual ride to the labs.

It wasn't until right around eight o'clock that a sleek black car drove up to Sans, and Papyrus watched his brother get into the car like he had done it countless times...which Papyrus now had no doubt was true.

To make CERTAIN, Papyrus watched for it several more times, and each time was the same. Sans walked to the bus depot, waited for the black car, and left. Only Saturdays were the exception.

Papyrus was PRETTY sure that a promotion didn't include getting a ride to the labs, which told him that Sans DIDN'T work in the labs...not anymore, anyway. It worried Papyrus to no end. Was Sans in trouble? Was he doing something illegal or dangerous? And if so, did he need help?

Well, if Sans needed help, Papyrus was not going to leave his brother high and dry!

* * *

 

Papyrus decided that he would go with Sans today. He didn't care if there was trouble, he wanted to BE there. He trekked out to the bus depot, but found, to his surprise, that Sans was not there.

He checked his watch; it was around the time that Sans was due to be here, but he simply WASN'T. He quietly walked to the same spot Sans would sit at and looked around, feeling nervous, but determined. He was going to figure this out, and damn the consequences!

Right on schedule, just as he was looking up from checking his watch, the black car drove up and came to a stop right next to him. Papyrus flexed his hands tightly before standing, steeling his as he walked up to the driver's window and knocked as politely as he could. The window rolled down, and the driver—a dapper-looking Cat Monster—stared up at Papyrus, looking just as curious as the Skeleton. “Um...hello...” Papyrus said nervously, but giving the Cat a smile. “...do you...by any chance know my brother, Sans?”

One of the Cat's ears flicked. “Sure enough do,” he replied. “He was supposed to be here.”

“...that's what I thought too,” Papyrus said, rubbing the back of his skull. “...would you...mind telling me where he goes every day? Or...showing me?”

The Cat's eyes narrowed slightly, looking nervous. “I really shouldn't,” he replied cautiously. “It's...kind of a hush-hush thing, and it's not my business to say anything.”

“Please,” Papyrus pleaded, letting his nerves seep into his voice. “I'm worried about him...he doesn't tell me ANYTHING anymore, and I...I just want to know he's okay. Please?”

The Cat chewed his lip for a moment, looking thoughtful. “...look...I can't SAY anything,” he said carefully. “But I know for sure he's been punctual every day. If he's out like this, my employer will want to know.” He glanced around. “....I probably shouldn't do this, but...if you don't know where he is, my employer can. Hop in.”

Papyrus wasn't so ignorant as to forget the dangers of getting into a strange vehicle, but right now his curiosity and worry over his brother overrode his wariness. He nodded and moved to get into the back, eager to find out just what all of this was about.

* * *

 

Sans sighed softly as he stared out of the window of the cab on his way to Dr. Gaster's place, feeling a twinge of guilt over flaking on Felix. He had meant to shoot the driver a text, but by the time he remembered to, it was already ten and would do no good.

It was bad enough he had flaked on his morning routine, but he NEEDED this personal time. Between classes, assignments, and Dr. Gaster's whims, he just needed some quiet, personal Sans Time in the bookstore with a cup of coffee. He DID remember to text Dr. Gaster and apologize for the inconvenience, but right now the lack of response was concerning.

He really hoped that he hadn't screwed this up. Despite the need for a few personal hours to himself, he had to admit he had a VERY sweet deal with all of this. He was furthering his schooling, experiencing tastes he would NEVER have in any other circumstance, and the sex was fantastic. He wasn't going to deny that. That wasn't even going to mention that Dr. Gaster was legitimately great company and he LIKED being around the man. He didn't want to ruin that.

He paid and thanked the taxi driver before walking into the mansion, sighing softly as he prepared to face the music, looking around for where Dr. Gaster would be. He found the doors to the study open and walked in, his greeting and apology getting stuck halfway out of his mouth before he fully formed the words.

“Oh, Sans!” Dr. Gaster said, beaming as he sat up straight. “You're back! I was just getting to know your brother here.”

Sans's eyelights flicked to the spot next to Dr. Gaster, where Papyrus—his little brother—was sitting.

Papyrus.

Was HERE.

Oh.

SHIT.

Papyrus was sipping tea, giving Sans a smile and oh gods, Sans had to sit down...

“Papyrus was just telling me about his classes,” Dr. Gaster said, taking a sip of tea. “He's positively a DELIGHT, Sans! Such a bright, wonderful boy.” He beamed at Papyrus, whose cheekbones dusted orange.

“...yeah...” Sans replied, trying to loosen his fingers from the arms of the chair he was sitting in. “...he really is...” His hands twitched, flicking his eyelights between his brother and Dr. Gaster, and felt a sharp twinge of SOMETHING, seeing Dr. Gaster looking at Papyrus with utter ADORATION.

This wasn't good.

“Dr. Gaster, can I speak with you alone?” he asked, sounding more desperate than he had meant to. Dr. Gaster looked up, surprised at the tone, but nodded, setting his cup down.

“We'll be right back,” he assured Papyrus. “Help yourself to the sweets as you wish.”

“Oh, thank you!” Papyrus chirped, going for the little tarts as the two older Skeletons stood and walked out of the study. Sans carefully shut the doors behind them before rounding on Dr. Gaster, his eyelights blazing.

“What the hell is this?!” he demanded, fighting to keep his voice low. “What is he DOING here?!”

Dr. Gaster quietly folded his hands in front of him, his expression calm. “He arrived here in the ride YOU were supposed to take,” he replied evenly. “He was worried about you, and Felix felt that I might know where you were.” His eyelights went surprisingly sharp. “...you did not tell me you had a brother, Sans...let alone that you were the primary caretaker. Why didn't you say anything?”

“It wasn't your concern!” Sans replied, sounding more snappish than he had intended. “...It...wasn't something you needed to know.”

“What are you talking about?” Dr. Gaster demanded softly. “Sans, if I had known, I would have accommodated for him!”

Sans gave him a sharp look. “What the hell do you MEAN, 'accommodated for him'?” he asked. “What are you—“

“Does he need assistance with his studies?” Dr. Gaster began, gesturing with his hands slightly. “Tutors? Any upcoming school fees or necessities he needs? He was only mentioning school projects to me, he sounded like he might need some materials—“

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Sans interrupted, holding up his hands. “What the hell—what are you even talking about!?”

Dr. Gaster gave Sans an exasperated look. “Sans, I set your stipend for YOU, I didn't think you had a little brother to take care of! Of COURSE I'll arrange something for him!”

Sans stared at Dr. Gaster, feeling as though a fuse had blown in his mind. “...w...wha...?”

“He seems to be very intelligent and bright...how old is he? He seems quite tall for high school,” Dr. Gaster continued. “Perhaps if I—“

“What are your intentions toward my brother?”

The hard edge to Sans's tone gave Dr. Gaster pause, the doctor looking down at Sans with concern. “...excuse me?”

“I REFUSE you propositioning him,” Sans hissed, his eyelights blazing. “I REFUSE!”

“Wha—Sans, I am not—“

“I want it in writing!” Sans exclaimed, sounding on the edge of hysteria. “I want it in my terms that you wont proposition my brother—!”

“Sans, for heaven's sake—“ Dr. Gaster reached out, curling his arms around Sans and pulling the smaller Skeleton to him. Sans was startled out of his tirade, which gave Dr. Gaster the opening to comfort him with soft, gentle pets to the skull. “...Sans, I'm speaking out of concern for you, and for him,” the doctor continued calmly. “I made up that stipend to accommodate for your life...and if your brother is a part of your life, I want to accommodate for him too. It has nothing to do with desiring him as I do you.”

Sans's frame slumped against Dr. Gaster's, the fight draining from him and replacing instead with horrible embarrassment. “...I...I didn't want...I mean...”

“Shh,” Dr. Gaster shushed. “I understand...but I really do want to help.” He smiled. “...I haven't told him anything about your arrangements here. He recognized my name and came to his own conclusion that you're doing private research here...so I didn't bother correcting him. It seemed fitting enough.”

Sans numbly nodded. “...sounds good,” he murmured. “...but...you don't have to....I mean, I'm takin' care of him just fine...”

“I know you are,” Dr. Gaster replied. “But still, if there's ANYTHING he needs, I want to provide it. Anything at all.” He chuckled. “He really is a delight, Sans.”

“...heh...he is...” Sans concurred. “...but he's good for now, I promise. My stipend is more than enough, believe me.”

Dr. Gaster nodded. “If you insist,” he said, leaning down and kissing Sans's head. “...since you're both already here, I want to at least insist on lunch. He's already skipped school for this.”

“He WHAT!?” Sans bolted from Dr. Gaster's hold to the study. “PAPYRUS CANCIONE SERIF, WHY ARE YOU NOT IN SCHOOL!?”

Dr. Gaster smiled, muffling back laughter at the literal squeak he heard come from the study. _Absolutely darling_ , he thought to himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's more Papyrus to come; we all know how much Dr. G loves to spoil someone.


	6. Consolation Prizes

Papyrus was, thankfully, satisfied with the explanation for Sans's job and didn't ask that many questions about it. However, he became increasingly insistent with wanting to know more about Dr. Gaster, and even wanted to go back over to the mansion.

“He has a pool, Sans, did you know that?”

“He's very smart, he had a great idea for my science project!”

“He said I was welcome back at any time, when can I come over?”

Ugh, gods, that last one was true but Sans didn't want to cash in on it. He mostly didn't want to run the risk of Papyrus finding out what he was REALLY doing there, but he was also...wary of Dr. Gaster's interest in Papyrus. It DID seem innocent enough, but it was still odd. He didn't know Dr. Gaster's intentions for Papyrus, and he honestly didn't want to think about it.

So he put off bringing Papyrus around, despite how put out it made his little brother. If he could, he would keep him away forever.

…........

…....but since when was he ever that lucky?

It came out of nowhere, but was honestly overdue and to be expected, living in THIS area of the District. Sounds of late-night mischief and distant violence was something he and Papyrus had learned to sleep through, but it was awfully hard to sleep through a terf war between Fire and Rock Monsters.

Even harder when flaming rocks came crashing into his home.

Years of being a light sleeper snapped Sans out of bed, quickly assessing the situation—and affirming that yes, a rock the size the TV that was on fire and making it spread was a bad thing—and ran to Papyrus's room, shaking his little brother awake. “PAPYRUS, WAKE UP, WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!”

“Sans, wha...!?” Papyrus yelped as Sans dragged him out of bed. “What's going on!?”

“Shut up and run!” Sans snapped, unlocking Papyrus's window and shoving it open. “Code Red, Papyrus, Code Red!”

Sans was glad that he had instilled emergency drills early when he moved here with Papyrus; Code Yellow was minor danger, where Papyrus wasn't to leave the house for anything but school, Code Orange was intermediate danger, where Papyrus wasn't allowed out of the house, and Code Red was RUN. JUST. RUN.

Sans only had to use one Code Red before in the past few years, and that was when their next-door neighbor had apparently pissed off some human gang members that resulted in a shoot-out. He and Papyrus ran and spent the night in the bus depot until the police had it handled, and the fracas had shaken Papyrus up too badly to try to go to school.

Papyrus obeyed the Code Red immediately, practically diving out the window with Sans following after, and the two of them high-tailed it as quickly as they could to the bus depot, their designated 'safe' area. As soon as the two were tucked back in the waiting area, Papyrus collapsed in the corner, hugging his knees as the shock of the event sunk in, clashing horribly with the memory of the LAST Code Red they had to deal with.

Sans slumped next to his brother, comforting him as best he could with gentle pats on the skull, looking out the window and feeling a clench in his soul when he saw the glow of a distant fire gone rogue.

He knew, deep down, that his house was not standing anymore.

The sort of numb static that came after an adrenaline high continued to buzz in his bones, letting him know that if he was going to do anything, he had best do it soon before adrenaline melted into uselessness. He REALLY didn't want a breakdown in front of Papyrus, but if things weren't handled soon, it just might happen.

On impulse, Sans jumped up and started scouring the seats and floor around the vending machine until he came out with some change and hurried to the payphone, leaning against the wall until the other end picked up.

“.......Felix, I'll owe you big if you do me a favor....”

* * *

 

Dr. Gaster looked up when his doorbell rang, staring incredulously at his watch for a few moments before standing and heading for the door. Who on earth could be at his home this early in the morning? He quietly unlocked the door and opened it, almost jumping back when he saw two weary Skeletons on his step, both looking exhausted with trauma-white bones.

Sans held Papyrus's arm tightly, giving his little brother something to ground to while keeping grounded himself, staring up at Dr. Gaster with pinpricked, panicked eyelights. “I...I know this is....really not the time...or really short-notice...” he stammered, sounding close to tears. “...but....can we just.....I mean....” His eye sockets went damp. “....we don't.....have anywhere else to go....”

Dr. Gaster immediately stepped forward and curled his arms around the two younger Skeletons, holding them tightly. “Of course you two can stay,” he said firmly. “You don't need to tell me anything if you don't want to right now.” He tugged them inside and shut his door, locking it behind him. “Come along, I'll get you two settled...”

Anything else he said became a low droning buzz as Sans's leftover adrenaline vanished, leaving him with nearly painful exhaustion. It was all a blur before he was tucked into a soft bed and only sensing his brother's soul nearby finally allowed him to succumb to his exhaustion as everything went numb and black.

Adjustments were, to say the least, difficult. Several times, Sans would jerk awake from sleep and panic, not knowing where he was before remembering his situation, and only sheer exhaustion would allow him to sleep again.

Dr. Gaster had absolutely assured him that he and Papyrus could stay as long as they needed to, and by the time Sans and Papyrus had woken up the next morning, the doctor had rooms set aside and made up for them and told them to inform him of ANYTHING they wanted for it. Although Sans wanted to—politely—refuse, he had to admit that he couldn't do much of ANYTHING without a new computer, phone, and clothes. And Papyrus certainly needed everything else from the ground up.

Sans had never seen the kind of depression Papyrus displayed; their house might not have been the best, or the safest, but it was home, and everything inside was gone. His attempts at cheering his brother up all seemed to fail spectacularly, and it was only after Papyrus quietly requested yet another day off from school, not able to cope with anything very well, that he finally turned to Dr. Gaster.

“Maybe just let him splurge a little,” he said, glancing at his little brother, who was sitting in the bay window and looking out at the light rain morosely. “A treat to cheer him up, maybe? I know for a fact he's been eyeing Mettaton's new album.”

Dr. Gaster nodded, looking like he was half-listening as he watched Papyrus too, sipping his coffee. “...I'll see what I can do,” he said before putting his coffee down and pulling out a folder and handing it to Sans. “Here.”

Sans frowned, taking it and opening it, showing the paperwork of his contract. “...what's this for?” he asked, flipping through it before finding a new page added to the back.

“You wanted it in writing that I wouldn't proposition your brother,” Dr. Gaster replied, folding his hands on the table. “I wanted to respect that.”

Sans's fingers clenched into the folder for a moment before he sighed, closing it quietly. “...thanks,” he muttered, pushing it back over. “...and...our arrangement...?”

“Under wraps, as I always intended.” Dr. Gaster pushed back from the table, standing up. “I'll go get ready to take him out. How's your work coming?”

“It's...getting there,” Sans said, rubbing his eye sockets. “I have a few papers to make up, but I should have most of it done by this evening.” Dr. Gaster nodded, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

“You've been working far too hard,” he said, smiling. “I'll be sure to give you a treat later this evening as well.” He kissed the top of Sans's skull before heading off to change. Sans remained sitting at the table, trying to quell his blue blush before he had to go tell his brother that Dr. Gaster was taking him out for the day.

* * *

 

It was HOURS later, and Sans was wishing that he had gone with Papyrus and Dr. Gaster. He couldn't concentrate at all on his work, and no amount of coffee was going to change that; he learned THAT about two hours ago and was now just plain bored.

He sighed, slumping back on the couch and debated on whether TV or another go at his work would be a better use of his time when he heard the front door open and Papyrus's loud, enthusiastic chatter ring all the way to the living room. Sans smiled a little, sitting up; apparently Dr. Gaster's outing had gone smoothly and Papyrus was sufficiently cheered up. That was good, he couldn't stand it when Papyrus was feeling down.

“Saaaaaaaaans, where are you?” Papyrus called out.

“In the living room, bro!” Sans called back, hearing Papyrus hurry over. “How as your...your day......”

He trailed off as Papyrus came flouncing in, and his mind did a short-circuit/reboot for a few moments as he took in the sight.

Rather than the simple jeans and shirt he had been wearing earlier, Papyrus was now instead wearing a flouncy orange top...paired with an equally-flouncy blue skirt...and a pair of fuchsia leg warmers over black ankle boots with a two-inch heel. If that wasn't mind-frazzling enough, Papyrus was sporting several gold bangles around his wrists, a thin gold necklace around his neck, and an elastic headband with a cloth fuchsia rose sported primly around his skull.

Oh.......dear gods.........

Papyrus apparently took his silent staring as stunned joy, beaming brightly as he twirled to show off his outfit. “Isn't it GREAT, Sans?” he said, his eyelights sparkling. “The doctor took me clothes shopping!”

“.....I....can see that....” Sans replied slowly, feeling a twitch in his eye socket, flicking his eyelights to the door and seeing Dr. Gaster walking in carrying ARMFULS' worth of bags and boxes with his magic, the doctor's purple eyelights honing with delight at Papyrus.

“We picked out things for you too, Sans!” Papyrus chirped, fetching a few bags from the mass and parting them off. “Dr. Gaster and I thought you would look quite fetching in silk!”

“.....uh huh.....” Sans was unable to articulate much else, still trying to process Papyrus's outfit. Dr. Gaster seemed to notice, turning to Papyrus.

“Papyrus, why don't you be a dear and put your new things away,” he said. “And Sans's things too, I'm sure he'd like to try them on later.”

“Alright!” Papyrus said, deftly transferring the magic hold from Dr. Gaster to himself, merrily hurrying off with the loot toward the bedrooms, leaving the two older Skeletons alone in the living room. Once Papyrus was gone, Sans's mental focus returned, giving Dr. Gaster a glower venomous enough to wilt flowers.

“....what the hell was that?” he demanded. Dr. Gaster frowned, looking legitimately surprised.

“...what was what?” he asked. “It's new clothes and accessories Sans, I—“

“WHY IS MY BROTHER IN A SKIRT?” Sans all but shouted, clenching his fists. “WHY did you put him in that outfit!? Are the OTHER outfits like that too!?”

“Sans, WHAT are you implying?” Dr. Gaster demanded, eyelights going sharp. “I didn't PUT him in anything!”

“Then WHY the skirt!?”

“It's what HE picked out!” Dr. Gaster crossed his arms. “Sans, you have it in writing that I won't proposition your brother. And I haven't. I took him shopping to cheer him up and told him to get whatever he wanted. He had his reservations, but I assured him that price was no objection. HE picked out the outfits, HE picked out the accessories. I had NOTHING to do with it except the payment.”

“...but.....but why....?” Sans protested weakly, gesturing helplessly in the direction Papyrus had left through. “...he's never....” He trailed off, rubbing his temples in the feeling of an oncoming migraine. Dr. Gaster sighed, crossing the room and curling his arms around Sans.

“...perhaps he didn't have the opportunity, or the means to indulge in his personal tastes,” the doctor answered. “...and they're not ALL skirts, honestly. Some are dresses.” He snorted when Sans let out an agonized whine. “And a good bit are pants and shirts, calm down, Sans.” He patted Sans's back quietly. “I promise you, I had nothing to do with his selections. I simply told him to get what he wanted...and he happened to really want a skirt. And I was honest when I told him he looked darling in it, and he had the legs for it. The boy needs more compliments and freedom to express himself. And now he has the means to.”

Sans sighed heavily, leaning against Dr. Gaster. “........sorry,” he mumbled quietly. Dr. Gaster smiled.

“It's alright,” he replied, kissing Sans's skull. “But really, he DOES look nice in his outfits. We're so late getting home because he insisted on modeling them all. And by the way, the dress has frills.”

“Oh gods...”

Dr. Gaster laughed, leaning back. “The clothes we got for you really are 'fetching',” he said, soothing out the conversation. “I'm certain you'll enjoy the silk shirts quite a bit.” He leaned down, practically purring as he nuzzled Sans's skull. “I know I will.”

Sans went blue in the face as Dr. Gaster leaned back, giving him an almost sinful smile. “...tonight, Sans,” was all he said before leaving the room and heading to the kitchen to prepare dinner, leaving a very flustered Skeleton in his wake.

* * *

 

Sans had been hesitant about the almost literal command; naturally, he was anxious about doing ANYTHING of this nature in the same house as Papyrus. But Papyrus's room was at the other end of the floor and Sans was pretty sure Dr. Gaster's room was soundproof anyway.

His hesitation lasted all of ten seconds within shutting Dr. Gaster's door, being swept up in the older Skeleton's arms and held close as he was kissed within an inch of his life. Nothing made his anxieties and reservations vanish like being kissed the way Dr. Gaster did, those long, elegant hands brushing over his tense bones and making him relax in the hold.

Dr. Gaster carried Sans to the bed and sat him back before undressing him, brushing his phalanges feather-light over the smaller Skeleton's bones. Sans shivered, squirming slightly under those touches for a few moments before Dr. Gaster leaned back.

“Be a dear and lie yourself in the middle of the bed, sternum-down,” Dr. Gaster said, giving Sans a heated smile. Sans's face dusted blue as he obeyed; he hadn't had many commands in bed before, and this was somewhat risque in nature from the sounds of it. He shifted himself onto his front, leaning his mandible on the soft pillow and resting his arms around it, his bones shivering with anticipation as he heard—and felt—the doctor climb onto the bed and situate behind him. He buried his blush-burned face into the pillow, anticipating almost anything, except for the firm but gentle touch of fingers on his back bones, the phalanges charged with magic for a more tangible experience, the likes of which made him actually squeak and jerk his head up in surprise. “Wha—“

“Relax, Sans,” came Dr. Gaster's low, soothing voice, accompanied by the sensation of fingers running down his spine. The reaction of magic could only be a sensation Sans could best come up with as perhaps skin-on-skin, only their magics being that thin barrier just over bones. Regardless of what it WAS, it made Sans's bones turn to metaphoric jelly, slumping down on the bed again.

Dr. Gaster made a pleased sound at Sans's compliance, sliding his hands up to work his thumbs into Sans's scapulae. Sans was happy to have his face in the pillow, not wanting to embarrass himself with any moans, no matter HOW great it felt. His shoulders twitched when the doctor's phalanges slid from his scapulae to over his back ribs, to his spine, and then trailed down in one fluid motion, all the way to the sacrum. Here, Dr. Gaster lingered, working the bone firmly and no doubt noticing the magic that was coalescing underneath.

“Enjoying yourself, Sans?” he asked with only a slight tilt of tease to his voice. Sans mumbled into the pillow for a moment before turning his head, his cheekbones fully blue.

“Y...yeah, I am...” he stammered, control of his voice starting to fly out the window. “...but why are...?” He was silenced with Dr. Gaster's thumbs firmly working his iliac spines.

“Oh Sans, you don't honestly think I'd give Papyrus a treat and forget about YOU, do you?” the doctor replied, redirecting his attention to the heads of Sans's femurs, making Sans's hips twitch hard. “After everything you've been through, you could do with some pampering, don't you agree?”

Sans could hardly answer with more articulation than a gurgle of assent, his body slumping into the silk sheets with a numb pleasure. He deftly heard Dr. Gaster chuckle with amusement before feeling the older Skeleton tuck a hand under Sans's sacrum and press into Sans's magic, which had formed itself entirely beneath Sans's notice. Sans noticed it NOW, his breath hitching as fingers gently rubbed against the mound of magic to stimulate it further.

His hands flexed into the pillow under his head, his teeth clenching tightly as his hips arched off the bed slightly, giving the doctor better access and a non-too-subtle invitation for more. Dr. Gaster didn't disappoint, his fingers continuing to stimulate Sans's magic before slipping in to the metacarpals.

Sans gasped, almost jerking up off the bed entirely until Dr. Gaster's free hand gently pressed down on his scapula, keeping his upper half down on the bed. “Relax, Sans,” Dr. Gaster purred, working his fingers slowly. “Just relax and enjoy your special treat.” His thumb worked firmly into Sans's scapula, sliding between that, over a rib or two, to the spine, and back again.

The contradiction between relaxation and stimulation on both halves of his body soon had him where his hips were arched high off the bed and his upper half slumped over, neither half able to cooperate with the other and leaving Sans stuck in the middle. Sans was almost out of it, panting softly as Dr. Gaster's hands moved independent of the other, one's fingers working fast inside him as the other's went slow over his spine, bringing him close to an orgasm without speeding it along, making Sans both want it to end but not wanting it to stop at the same time.

It went on for what seemed like hours before Sans's spine arched hard as he came, moaning loudly enough to fear someone heard but with enough satisfaction that he couldn't care less if they did. He rode out his orgasm to its end before slumping down on the bed, panting hard and twitching his hips, letting out a groan of disappointment when Dr. Gaster's hands withdrew from his body.

It was a short-lived disappointment, as Dr. Gaster's presence returned moments later, bareboned and sliding into the bed next to Sans, one hand reaching out and brushing over Sans's face before he leaned in and kissed him softly. Sans kissed him back, leaning closer and riding out the high of having his bones quiver with magic from Dr. Gaster's hands and his own orgasm. Dr. Gaster leaned back after a moment, smiling. “Did you enjoy your treat?” he asked. Sans's cheekbones dusted bluer as he nodded.

“...I did,” he replied. He shifted for a moment, his eyelights flickering over Dr. Gaster's bare bones. “...do...you want me to...?”

Dr. Gaster kissed him again briefly. “Only if you're feeling up to it,” he replied. “I understand how overwhelming a massage can be for our particular brand of magic.” He tucked his arm under Sans to curl it around the smaller Skeleton, who weighed his options for about two seconds before pressing closer and kissing Dr. Gaster hard. He felt his magic quivering again as he shifted himself over the taller Skeleton, eyelights gleaming.

“...I think I'm up for it.”

 

 


	7. Spoiled Sweet

Papyrus seemed to seamlessly separate his school and home lives like flipping a switch. Although Dr. Gaster had offered to enroll Papyrus into a closer Northern District school, Papyrus politely declined, stating he'd rather finish out his school year with his friends.

“It hasn't escaped me that Papyrus is a bit...old to be a junior in high school...” Dr. Gaster had delicately brought up after Papyrus left for his first day back after the incident. Sans sipped his coffee, nodding.

“Yeah...things...weren't that good after our folks fell down...” he replied, rubbing the back of his skull. “There was a couple o' years I was takin' care of Papyrus by myself before we got on our feet, an' he missed a few years of schooling.” He sipped his coffee again. “He's smart, though, so it took less than a year to catch up...but he made friends and didn't wanna be apart from 'em.” He sighed. “I figured I owed him that much stability after everything.”

Dr. Gaster nodded, thoughtfully turning to his tablet. “...you don't suppose he'll object to some comprehensive work after school so see where his skills lie, do you?”

Sans gave him a critical look. “...as long as it's not overwhelming,” he said.

Despite the massive upheaval of circumstances, Papyrus was hardly overwhelmed in any way, Sans noticed. That seamless transition seemed to come so easily to Papyrus, leaving for school in his new shirts and pants and coming home to trade them out for skirts or a dress that he gleefully and comfortably wore around the mansion.

Since Sans had access to Papyrus's grades online, he kept a close watch to make sure Papyrus wasn't suffering academically; however, Papyrus grades remained unharmed. Sans chalked it up to Papyrus's work ethic and the help Dr. Gaster provided. It seemed no matter how busy Dr. Gaster was—outside of Sans's area of work, anyway—he would always have time to help Papyrus out.

Come to think of it, Dr. Gaster was spending a great deal more time with Papyrus now that everyone was living under the same roof; they had to tone down some of the more common displays of affection with Papyrus there. It left Sans with more time to work on his schoolwork, and the other two Skeletons knew better than to disturb him when he was in the zone.

Being the single-minded study freak he was, Sans often didn't know that the doctor and Papyrus were out until he received a text telling him otherwise. Today, though, he had gone right from bed to coffee after sleeping in, and found that Dr. Gaster and Papyrus were already gone. He was about to inquire where when he received the first of many picture mails from Papyrus, posing with a cup of coffee from the cafe downtown.

The chronologing continued, from the cafe to several boutiques and stores with about ten pictures of modeling clothes and accessories from each one, then lunch at a bistro, more stores, a selfie with Dr. Gaster as they sipped frappuccinos, and a picture of Dr. Gaster carrying a ton of bags captioned **SMART** _ **AND**_ **STRONG <3**.

Sans found himself still flipping through the pictures when the two came back home **.** Papyrus was chatting enthusiastically as he walked in, pausing only when he saw Sans. “Sans, we're back!” he announced, grabbing a few bags and hurrying over to his brother, holding them out. “We found some nice things for you too! But you just HAVE to come with us next time! The city is just AMAZING!” He turned to Dr. Gaster, beaming as he gave the doctor a big hug before taking the bags from him. “Thank you, Doctor, today was SO much fun!”

Dr. Gaster smiled, patting Papyrus' head. “I enjoyed myself too,” he replied. “Run along now and put your things away.” He smiled after the gleeful Skeleton, his eyelights glimmering softly. “He's such a delightful boy, isn't he?”

Sans frowned, his hands flexing slightly as he took in that gentle look on Dr. Gaster's face, getting the same odd creep factor as last time. “...yeah...” he replied slowly. “...look, Dr. Gaster...it's been really....great, staying here, and we're grateful for that...but isn't this going a little overboard?”

The doctor's smile dropped, glancing at Sans critically. “...what do you mean?”

Sans ran a hand over his skull, sighing. “It's just......all those new clothes and things...isn't it a bit much?”

Dr. Gaster frowned. “...not at all,” he said simply. “Why would it be too much? I'd do the same for you.”

“Y...yeah, but.....I...” Sans struggled to convey out his thoughts. “But WHY? You said you wouldn't proposition him, but you're certainly spending a LOT of time with him!”

“Because you never let me spoil you, Sans!” Dr. Gaster shot back with a touch of almost whining exasperation. “I LIKE spoiling Papyrus, and I LIKE spending time with him! I LIKE making him happy, and I would LIKE to make YOU happy too. It just seems you're happiest when I am not in the immediate picture.” He turned to leave the room, then paused and took a box out of his pocket, handing it to Sans. “...I managed to find this while Papyrus was looking at bangles. I hope you like it.” He left.

Sans's fingers brushed over the box for a moment before he opened it, seeing a thin platinum chain with a platinum pendant in the shape of a caffeine molecule attached to a serotonin molecule.

A novelty-like piece of jewelry made from an expensive precious metal. Just the thing Dr. Gaster would do for him.

Sans sighed, recalling back to the beginning of it all when Dr. Gaster told him he just had a whim to spoil someone in return for company; Sans thought it was a bit rich and exaggerated, but now...he was wondering if Dr. Gaster really WAS that eccentric to get off on spoiling someone. Thinking back to those photos Sans sent, Dr. Gaster DID look genuinely enthused with Papyrus's company.

For perhaps the first time since the arrangement started, Sans began feeling guilty for not indulging ENOUGH in what was—contractually—his right (and expectation) to do so. Looking at it from the foolish optimist's point of view, he and Papyrus could be here for a good while and he even put it in his terms that anything that was bought for him, he could keep. Hell, he wondered if he could ask the doctor for a nice condo downtown to move into at some point, a car to use at his leisure, a few new outfits, more of those sweets—

Okay, getting ridiculous there. But still, both times Dr. Gaster had taken Papyrus out on those shopping sprees, he'd picked up a few things he thought Sans would like. It was obvious he was still thinking of Sans.

Sans sat back in a chair, quietly taking the necklace out of the box and putting it on. Huh. It wasn't half bad. It would look even better with the tshirt he saw online that had a picture of Erwin Schrodinger with the words WANTED: DEAD AND ALIVE on it.

He sighed, looking through the bags that contained the things that had been bought for him and took out a shirt.

….....well goddamn.

It was that very shirt.

He smiled a little, putting the shirt back into the bag before gathering it and the others up to go put them away in his room. It wouldn't hurt to maybe spoil himself a little, would it?

* * *

 

Sans did his best to allow for more spoiling, even if it WAS backlogged by years' worth of scrimping and pinching and calculating every penny of every purchase in his head. He started out small, asking for a certain coffee bean he liked that wasn't exactly cheap, a smaller room to use as his study room and office area, up to a car to borrow for his own outside excursions.

That last one had Dr. Gaster putting a set of keys in Sans's hand that Sans recognized belonged to the sleek black car Dr. Gaster often used when taking Sans out before Papyrus was a part of the picture.

“I had intended to give it to you before,” Dr. Gaster said, smiling. “I figured I would hold onto it for you until you wanted it. It's yours.”

Wow. If this was the feeling Papyrus got when HE received new things, Sans could sort of get why his little brother enjoyed shopping sprees so much. And since Papyrus was in school, Sans asked if they could go on a drive.

The day was very crisp and cool with the leaves changing into a soothing, dazzling amber and red. Dr. Gaster gave Sans pointers on the best scenic routes of the area, and suggested that perhaps they all take a picnic at some point. Sans considered the idea as he drove along, feeling relaxed and at ease. Most of his papers and work was done, he didn't have any bills to worry about....so yeah. He could take it easy.

A drive through downtown and a couple of coffees and sandwiches at the bistro later, Sans drove himself and Dr. Gaster home, feeling a bit happy about taking the keys upstairs to his bedroom with him, knowing that the car was is for whatever and whenever he wanted.

“You seemed to have fun today,” Dr. Gaster commented, walking with Sans. Sans shrugged, smiling a little.

“...I really did,” he replied. “It was nice.”

“I'm glad.” Dr. Gaster curled his arms around Sans from behind, nuzzling at Sans's skull. “It's a little depressing, watching you work so hard and not relax properly...I'm happy you're allowing yourself that before you're an old man like me who looks back with regrets for not doing so.”

Sans blushed around the cheekbones. “....c'mon, yer not that old...” he muttered. “An' it wasn't THAT bad, was it?” He felt Dr. Gaster's arms tighten around him.

“...it was bad,” Dr. Gaster replied. “I abandoned the prospects of friendship and family for my work, immersing myself for decades into building up my labs, and it was only within recent years that I realized that I could have gotten to where I am without abandoning anything. And now I'm edging into my golden years, living in a large empty house with more money than is even possible to spend on myself if I TRIED, but it would be absolutely foolish and insulting to blow it on NOTHING, as hard as I worked for it.”

He kissed Sans's skull lightly. “That's why I enjoy being with you, Sans. You appreciate what you have and wish to work for what you want...and I enjoy Papyrus because he's the frivolous, joyful child I might have had, if I hadn't been so single-minded in my youth...and you're both such wonderful boys, it truly does bring me joy to spend on you. Because I know it makes you both happy without being greedy...a rarity I feel lucky to have found.”

Sans's skull was almost blue from blushing, reaching up and holding Dr. Gaster's arms tightly. “...so spoilin' us really does yet ya off,” he said, trying to ignore the misty feeling in his eye sockets.

“Oh, it does...” Dr. Gaster practically purred, nuzzling Sans's skull, his arms unfurling from around the smaller Skeleton to brush his hands over Sans's frame. “And not just that, Sans...I'm attracted to independence, maturity, and intelligence...three things you embody quite well...” He tucked one hand under Sans's mandible, tilting the younger Skeleton's head up. “To be younger again...how I envy your youthful determination...”

Sans squirmed in the doctor's hold, feeling his bones tingle slightly. “...you haven't disappointed me yet, old man,” he replied. “I don't expect to be disappointed in the future either.”

Dr. Gaster grinned, leaning down and kissing Sans, his hands tucking underneath Sans's clothes. Sans returned the kiss with equal fervor, turning in the doctor's hold to reach up and curl his arms around Dr. Gaster's neck, tugging him closer and having an anchor as he was picked up and carried to his bed.

Sans felt that he was getting more of an equal deal with Dr. Gaster, lying back and letting the doctor undress him, and thinking of how right now, they were being equally spoiled in their own ways.

And he found that he was quite fine with that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> N'awww, wasn't that sweet? Golly, I wonder what the next chapter is gonna be like. *prepares my gallant leap into the Sin Bin*


	8. Daddy

Sans felt better, having accepted the fact that Dr. Gaster's whims really WERE that eccentric and genuine, and that there was no harm in indulging in them. He could honestly say he and Papyrus hadn't been this happy in years, oh, Papyrus especially.

He had always felt Papyrus deserved the moon and the stars, as wonderful and amazing a person his little brother was. Papyrus never complained about their situation and always strove to be positive and helpful. After the initial shock of seeing his brother's personal taste in clothing, the novelty wore off and it was like second nature to see Papyrus flitting around the house in a skirt or a dress, though with cooler weather, he had taken to wearing leggings underneath.

Still, it made Papyrus HAPPY, and Sans couldn't deny his brother that.

And it wasn't as though Papyrus was greedy about it, either. Dr. Gaster told Sans—and Sans witnessed it too when he was along for the outings—that Papyrus was very generous with tips and donations, and with the holiday season coming up, Papyrus was donating more than he was keeping.

Not to mention, once Papyrus's first few sprees gave him a closet of new clothes and a drawer of accessories, his splurges were focused on media—primarily Mettaton's albums and movies—new comic books and figurines, and a computer of his own. Other than that, he was content to stay in the mansion, and found a new hobby learning to cook with Dr. Gaster's personal chef.

Dr. Gaster was more than happy to let Papyrus indulge, and actively encouraged Papyrus's new hobby, stating what a treat it would be for Papyrus to make them dinner. The chef made a joke about getting a few nights off and Papyrus taking his job, and everyone had a laugh with Papyrus's over-dramatic woes of surpassing the master so soon.

Sans wasn't as exuberant as Papyrus in being indulged, but he was happy, and he was content. And that was more than enough.

* * *

 

It was Saturday, his official day off from anything and everything, which gave him the run of the mansion to himself. Earlier that week, Papyrus had run into his room screaming at the top of his lungs enough to give Sans a heart attack (if he HAD a heart), that Dr. Gaster had gotten him tickets to see Mettaton live—INCLUDING backstage passes.

After Papyrus finished screaming and went into the fanboy crying mode, Sans gave Dr. Gaster a 'thank you' smile, knowing that one of Papyrus's dreams was coming true and Dr. Gaster made it happen. He wasn't the biggest fan of Mettaton, but he still felt better if Papyrus would go with someone, and was actually surprised when Dr. Gaster offered to take him.

“Wow, YOU goin' to a Mettaton concert,” Sans snorted, grinning at the doctor. “I had best see some really ridiculous pictures.”

“I'm certain that Papyrus will take enough that he'll need a new memory card for his phone,” Dr. Gaster replied. “And it's no trouble, really.”

“We'll see if you still say that once Paps gets there,” Sans said, leaning back with his book. “I've yet to hear of a bigger fan of Mettaton than my brother.”

“I'll be sure he doesn't kidnap Mettaton and keep him in the closet.”

“Thanks, that would be awkward.”

The day of the concert, Sans bid Papyrus and Dr. Gaster farewell, snickering at the difference between Papyrus's bright outfit of pink and orange and Dr. Gaster's very sensible turtleneck under a black blazer and pants, preparing his phone for an influx of SO many pictures before heading to his room, wanting to get some reading done while he had the free time.

He must have dozed off at some point, waking up with his book on his chest and the clock beside his bed reading 1:13 am in green digital lighting. He sighed, sitting up and rubbing his face, glancing at his cell phone and seeing dozens of picture texts sent his way from Papyrus. The concert HAD to be over by now, and Dr. Gaster and Papyrus should be home and probably in bed.

Either way, quarter-after one in the morning be damned, Sans was hungry and figured a late-night snack was in order. He put his book aside and stretched, heading down to the kitchen in the silent mansion, and paused when he saw a dim light on in the living room, which struck him as odd since he knew that all the lights were off downstairs when a room was not in use.

He wondered of Dr. Gaster was awake and occupying the room, heading toward it to ask if the doctor wanted to split some cheesecake slices that were in the fridge, his hand pausing at the cracked door when he heard soft, muffled sounds from inside. He frowned, listening closer and feeling a dust of blue blush on his cheekbones when he recognized them as moans.

Pretty much anything from Dr. Gaster to Papyrus possibly masturbating in the living room ran through his mind, but peeking in had him seeing the last thing he thought he would—or wanted to—see.

Papyrus was laid out on the table-sized ottoman in the middle of the living room, his skirt pulled up over his pelvis and his legs parted wide. Between his femurs, Sans could see Dr. Gaster's skull.

Papyrus's breath hitched, his hand clenching into the ottoman behind his head. “O-oh...!” he moaned, his hips twitching upward. “D...doctor, please—!”

Dr. Gaster lifted his head, smiling. “All in good time, Papyrus,” he purred, stroking his hands over the younger Skeleton's femurs. “Just relax, I'll give you what you want.” He ducked his head back down, his tongue gliding between the folds of Papyrus's conjured mound of magic, making the younger moan loudly.

Papyrus bit at his fingers on his free hand to muffle his cries, squirming around on the ottoman, his face flushed orange. He mumbled around his fingers, egging the doctor on, his hips arching hard when he felt fingers join the tongue inside him. “Oh gods—!” he gasped, clenching the ottoman tighter. “J...just—ah!—just like that, Doctor, yes—!”

Dr. Gaster worked his fingers fast, glancing up at Papyrus, his purple eyelights gleaming. “Come on, Papyrus, there we go...” He curled his fingers hard, beaming at the squeal Papyrus let out.

“Please—!” Papyrus keened, his hips bucking hard. “Gods, please please, doc—oh fuck, d—doc—da—oh gods, daddy—!” He let out a wail as he came, dropping back on the ottoman panting hard, his bones flushed a light orange all over. He mewled almost pathetically as Dr. Gaster pulled his hand away, the fingers dripping orange that was wiped clean with an ever-present kerchief from the doctor's pocket.

“Such a good boy,” he purred, reaching up and brushing his hand over Papyrus's cheekbone. “You're so beautiful, Papyrus...you know that, right?”

Papyrus's face turned a darker orange as he nodded, sitting up and tucking his skirt down. “...thank you,” he murmured before leaning in and kissing the doctor like he was pushing his nerve before he lost it.

In his bathroom, Sans was losing something of his own, right down the toilet. He slumped to the floor, shaking violently, his soul pulsing with dark emotions ranging from hurt to betrayal.

 _HE PROMISED. HE_ _**PROMISED** _ _._

Dr. Gaster had PROMISED to not proposition Papyrus that way!

HE.

PROMISED.

Sans curled up on the floor, the world he had foolishly allowed to build up crashing down around him. This was no fairy tale life; it was just a delusion he'd been idiot enough to believe in, thinking he was something special.

But no. He was a whore, and he'd brought his little brother into a whore's life.

Sans buried his face in his hands, his body shaking with heavy sobs, unable to do anything else.

* * *

 

By the time he came to out of his stupor on his bathroom floor, it was nearly eight-thirty in the morning, and all he wanted to do was LEAVE. He'd take what he needed, pull out what was in his stipend account, grab the car, and LEAVE with Papyrus. He'd start somewhere new, explain to Papyrus somehow on the way to wherever it was they would go—

Sans was so busy making a mental note of whatever he could pack in one go that he completely missed Dr. Gaster peeking into his bedroom until he turned around to grab his keys and jumped back, his soul pounding in his ribcage.

“Good morning, Sans,” Dr. Gaster said, smiling. “You slept in today, so I brought you some coffee—“ He cut off sharply when Sans snapped his hand out and bashed the cup right out of Dr. Gaster's hold, making it shatter on the floor.

Static silence hovered between them before Dr. Gaster lowered his hand, his expression confused and more than concerned. “...Sans, what was that?” he asked slowly.

Sans flexed his hands tightly, resisting the urge to misuse them in a homicidal manner. How dare he? HOW DARE HE PRETEND THERE WAS NOTHING WRONG. His resistance faltered, practically launching himself at the doctor, hitting at the taller Skeleton sharply. “HOW COULD YOU!?” he screamed, his eyelights blazing blue. “HOW COULD YOU, YOU BASTARD!? YOU PROMISED! YOU FUCKING PROMISED ME!”

“SANS—!” Dr. Gaster pushed Sans's fists away a few times before finally grabbing Sans's wrists, holding them tightly. “Sans, ENOUGH! STOP THIS!” He kept his hold firm, walking Sans back to the bed and making him sit down, trying to keep Sans from flailing. “What has gotten into you!?”

Sans half-sobbed, half-growled, jerking at his arms, giving Dr. Gaster a hateful glare. “YOU PROMISED ME!” he shouted, his voice shaking badly. “YOU...you PROMISED...!” The sobs wracked his frame harder, the initial fire in his soul starting to simmer down to despair and angst. “....you PROMISED me...you wouldn't proposition him, you ASSHOLE...!”

Dr. Gaster's hands tightened for a moment before laxing, quietly lowering Sans's arms down. “...so you saw that...” he replied, the statement more of a fact than a confession, something that made Sans's nausea return. He sighed, letting go of Sans's arms, reaching up and rubbing his nasal bone. “....I did promise you, Sans,” he continued quietly. “...and I did not break that promise.”

“Excuse me?” Sans growled, his fire restoking. “You call tongue-fucking my brother 'not propositioning'!?”

“Yes,” Dr. Gaster said firmly. “Because I DIDN'T proposition him. He propositioned ME.”

Sans stared at the doctor, his hands clenching tightly. “...get the fuck outta here,” he hissed, his eyelights blazing again. “There's no fuckin' way in HELL—“

“Sans, I have it in WRITING, along with everything else,” Dr. Gaster shot back. “He propositioned ME.” He sighed, leaning back against Sans's dresser, crossing his arms. “He's not some naive little child, Sans. He's eighteen, and it's foolish to think he's never had any experience before. He has his own preferences, and his own choices.” His expression was 110% serious. “I didn't make any move on him in any way. He propositioned me last night, after the concert. And quite frankly, with the crowd that convened at that concert, I was the LEAST of your worries.”

He sighed, glancing away from Sans. “I wasn't planning on it at all, but it was obvious that your brother has harbored a crush on me for some time now. And I am, admittedly, quite fond of him myself.”

Sans covered his skull with his hands, his head shaking slowly. “...how could you do that to me...?” he murmured, sniffling softly. “H...how...? Just....how...?”

Dr. Gaster strode over, kneeling down in front of Sans. “Sans, it was not my intention to hurt you,” he said sincerely. “Nor did I see it as a betrayal. I have still not told Papyrus anything that goes on between us, and my fondness for you hasn't wavered in the least.” He reached up, taking Sans's hands in his own, holding them tightly. “I would not have ever made the first move on Papyrus, out of respect for your wishes. But Papyrus propositioned ME. He knew what he wanted, and he asked me for it. And I obliged.”

Sans swallowed back his initial nausea, now just having the horribly uncomfortable knowledge of his brother's own questionable sexual tastes to deal with instead. “...but...why did you accept?” he asked thickly, his hands shaking. “...you didn't have to say yes.”

“...no, I didn't HAVE to,” Dr. Gaster replied. “...but I will not deny that I wanted to.” He smiled softly. “...you and Papyrus both are wonderful boys, and I feel happy having you both in my life. If it's a benefactor you want, if it's a father figure Papyrus wants, if it's a lover you both want, then I want to provide that.”

The smaller Skeleton sniffled, even his emotions draining to an odd numbness. “...gods...he's just a kid...” he murmured. Dr. Gaster sighed, squeezing Sans's hands.

“He's an adult, Sans,” he replied gently. “...and...far be it from me to air any of HIS dirty laundry spoken in confidence....but he's not an ignorant little child. Not in the LEAST. In any case...” He stood up, still holding Sans's hands. “...it's something you would need to speak to him about. It's not my place to talk about it unless he wants me to.”

THAT didn't exactly make Sans feel any better, but then again neither did it the time he found out about Papyrus's tastes in clothing. It was an uncomfortable feeling, not knowing something that big about his little brother, LEAST of all that Papyrus had been harboring sexual feelings for Dr. Gaster this whole time and had decided to act on them.

"...I don't know what to think...or how to feel anymore..." Sans said quietly.  Dr. Gaster squeezed his hands before letting them go.

"Talk to your brother," he reiterated.  "And then sort out your feelings.  Should the need arise, I will speak to you both together.  But Sans..."  His voice went earnest, catching the smaller Skeleton's attention.  "...he won't think any less of you if you tell him the truth.  I know that for a FACT.  Just consider it."  He turned to leave.  "I'll have someone clean the mess later.  But Papyrus is waiting for you for breakfast downstairs.  I'll leave you two to it."

He left the room, leaving Sans to sit on his bed and try to put his broken paradigms and world back together in a way that made sense.

 


	9. Talks and Readjustments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First up, a shoutout to spoopy-gaster on tumblr for making this AMAZING fanart from the previous chapter: http://spoopy-gaster.tumblr.com/post/150305515792/please-go-read-an-unorthodox-offer-it-is-so-good 
> 
> It's the best thing EVER. ;u;

Sans had to take several deep calming breaths before he entered the dining room, seeing Papyrus arranging toppings for the pancakes he had made out in tiny bowls, looking—admittedly—adorable in a frilly apron. Papyrus looked up, beaming when Sans came in. “Good morning, Sans!” he chirped. “I made pancakes today! And I made sure there were blueberries, I know how much you like them!”

 _'This is my brother,'_ Sans thought, feeling a twitch in his jaw. _'This is my brother, serving me blueberries and pancakes, and not eight hours ago he was moaning like a porn star.'_ He resisted the urge to slap the memory out of his own head, giving Papyrus a somewhat forced smile. “It looks good, bro,” he said, taking a seat. “Thanks.”

“Not at all, Sans!” Papyrus sat down across from him, plucking up some strawberries for his own pancakes. “Did you sleep well last night? I hope all of my picture texts didn't keep you up.”

Sans poked at a blueberry. “...nah, I...slept alright,” he lied through his teeth, forcing himself to continue with, “...did you have fun?”

“Oh, the BEST!” Papyrus said, beaming brightly. “I got to meet Mettaton, it was AMAZING! Doctor Gaster is just the BEST!”

 _'Don't freak out don't freak out don't freak out,'_ Sans mantraed to himself, forcing himself to take a few bites of the food as he weighed out how he was going to make this go. He HAD to talk about it; the longer he put it off, the harder it would be.

Still, it wasn't like when he first gave Papyrus The Talk a few years ago. This was the You're Fucking 18 Years Old and You're Getting Sexual Favors From A Man In His Late Forties Talk. Something he could say with every shred of conviction that he'd never in a million years thought he'd have with his little brother.

He couldn't fuck this up. Papyrus, tough as he was in the face of adversity, was still sensitive with certain subjects and judging from how many crumpled fliers Sans found at the bottom of the younger brother's backpack, clammed up tight about anything he didn't want to talk about.

Sans wanted the full story here; Dr. Gaster had sworn up and down that Papyrus had propositioned HIM, and looking back on it (as much as he didn't WANT to), Papyrus's reactions to THAT wasn't exactly surprised or virginal.

Wow. That was cracking open another can of worms, but that was a can he wanted to set aside for later. For now, he had to gird his proverbial loins for this and pray for the best.

“...hey, Papyrus...” he said quietly, his hand clenching around his fork. Papyrus looked up from his own food, tipping his head curiously.

“Yes, brother, what is it?”

Sans took a deep breath before letting it out, setting his fork down. “...Papyrus...we need...to talk...” He clenched his hands together. Might as well rip the band-aid off quickly. “About last night...” Pause. “...AFTER the concert...”

Papyrus's face dusted orange as he sat back in his chair. “...oh,” he said. “You...know about that...”

“More like I SAW it,” Sans blurted out, then paused to collect himself. “Papyrus, I....you...” He clenched his hands together. “...did you even know what you were doing?”

Papyrus's embarrassment slipped into something more...was that petulance? “...Sans I'm not six years old,” he replied. “You gave me that Talk when I was twelve. I knew what he was doing, and I knew what _I_ was doing.”

Sans felt that twitch coming back again. “Who initiated it?”

“I did.”

Oh GODS. “Why?”

“Because I felt the need for sexual gratification, why ELSE would I ask for it?”

Sans buried his face in his hands, resisting the urge to scream himself raw for Papyrus's eternal inclination towards bluntness. He rubbed his face before lifting his head slightly, clenching his hands under his mandible. “Papyrus...I'm...just trying to figure this all out, alright? This isn't....exactly EASY for me to know about...”

Papyrus let out an exasperated sigh. “Sans. I'm eighteen. I'm legally an adult. And even if I wasn't, how naive do you think I AM? How naive are YOU, thinking I've never done anything like this before?” He drummed his phalanges on the table, his cheekbones still orange. “...Sans, I'm older than most of the other kids in my school, and legally, even if I wanted to, I can't be with most of them, not even for a DATE. And believe me, it gets...FRUSTRATING”

His fingers curled into his palm, the bones in his hand grating slightly. “I won't even deny that I like Doctor Gaster. I like spending time with him, and I know he likes me too, and I respect the fact that he hasn't come onto me first. He's quite a gentleman that way. But it was a great concert, I went with a great person I like, and after all the excitement, I wanted a little more fun before the night ended.”

Papyrus sighed, pushing back from the table. “I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear, but it's the truth,” he said. “I didn't mean to upset you, and I'm certain he didn't either. But it was MY decision, and one that I'm not ashamed to say I may make again.”

Sans felt a twinge of...something. It was somewhere between feeling ill and feeling angry, right in the pit of where his stomach would be if he had one. “Papyrus you CAN'T—“

“And why NOT?” Papyrus demanded, stomping his foot on the floor. “WHY, Sans? WHY can't I do this, on MY terms, for ONCE in my life?”

Sans stared, his spine going cold. “...what the hell does THAT mean?” he asked, praying the implications weren't true. Papyrus's orange color drained from his bones, his clenched fists shaking hard as he said nothing. “...Papyrus, WHAT does that mean? Has...did anyone ever—“

“It wasn't like that,” Papyrus said quickly, his voice low and shaking slightly. “...I'm not an idiot, Sans. I knew how worse off we were...how badly we needed money...it's why I never asked for anything we couldn't afford. But there were some things I WANTED....and there was never a shortage of...favors I could do for swaps or money for them.”

Sans felt sicker than he had when he saw Dr. Gaster with Papyrus last night, his soul pounding in his rib cage. “...Papyrus......gods, PLEASE tell me you didn't ask for that because you felt you needed to replay the doctor for everything—“

“NO, Sans! That's not the POINT!” Papyrus stomped his foot again, making a small scuff in the tile. “The POINT is, I DID IT because I WANTED TO! Not because I HAD TO! I took a shot in the dark, and happened to hit despite expecting nothing.” He rubbed his arm, looking slightly contrite. “...To be honest....I didn't expect him to accept because....I thought he had a thing for YOU.”

Sans jerked back, eyelights constricting. “Wha—a thing for ME?” he demanded incredulously. “What in th' world gave you THAT idea?!”

Papyrus rolled his eyelights. “Please, Sans...you can't be THAT dense that you don't see the way he looks at you,” he muttered. “He looks like he adores the air you BREATHE. While we're out shopping, he's always looking for things for YOU.” He gestured helplessly before letting his hands drop. “ But he hasn't given any indication that you two are involved...and I guess he was just waiting for someone to make the first move. So I took a shot in the dark and went for it.” He paused, rubbing his arm again.

“...are you jealous, Sans?”

Sans nearly fell off his chair. “Wha—JEALOUS!?” he yelped, standing up. “NO, I'm not JEALOUS! I'm.....I'm SHOCKED! I'm ANGRY! I'm...more than a little uncomfortable and somewhat disgusted with the issue. Papyrus, you're eighteen, and he's nearly fifty, an' considering you're my little brother an' I'm...” He clenched his teeth together. No. No, he couldn't be getting into THAT, not right now.

_'Even if it IS pot calling kettle black, doing this shit for money and gifts...'_

“....I...I'm....worried he's taking advantage.” THAT was also true. Also not what he needed to say, if Papyrus's expression was worth noting.

“Sans. I JUST told you that I was the one who came onto HIM. I was the one who offered to HIM. And you know what?” He roughly untied his apron and tossed it onto the table. “HE was the one who said it was going a little too fast and that I should really think it over before it happened again. What a dastardly villain he is, right?” He turned on heel and stalked out of the dining room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Sans sat back down in his chair hard, burying his face in his hands. THAT hadn't gone well, not at all.

And he certainly didn't feel any better talking to Papyrus.

* * *

 

Sans remained sullen at the kitchen table for he-didn't-know-how-long, nothing bothering him until a glass was set down in front of his line of blank vision, making him look up and see Dr. Gaster staring down at him, concerned.

“....I'm guessing your talk with Papyrus didn't go so well,” he stated, sitting down next to Sans. Sans didn't reply, and just let out an extra-strong sigh. Dr. Gaster nodded to himself, taking a sip from his own glass. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Sans sighed again, forcing himself to sit up. “......I...still don't get it...” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I just...don't. Why...why did he....why did YOU....?” He paused, then grabbed the glass and knocked the whole thing back in one go. “...I just want my life to make some sense again.”

Dr. Gaster folded his hands on the table quietly. “Understandable,” he replied. “I assure you, Sans, that what I said earlier was true. I had no intention of propositioning your brother behind your back. But it is also still true that I am very fond of him. I am very fond of YOU.” He grabbed his glass and took a sip. “I had no intention of doing anything but go to the concert with Papyrus and come home. But on the ride back—“

“I...don't need to hear details. I saw enough,” Sans muttered, rubbing his temples. He sighed, resting his head in his arms. “...Papyrus told me you...told him to cool it off after...”

Dr. Gaster nodded. “It's true,” he replied. “I did. It occurred to me that after...he wanted to progress further, but I had admittedly done more than enough, and I told him as such. It would have been...it was wrong to do more than that without your knowledge.”

Sans let out a mirthless snort, feeling a migraine building in his skull. “An', tongue-fucking him WASN'T?” he groused. Dr. Gaster drummed his fingers on the table.

“Perhaps so,” he conceded. “A...lapse of judgement on my part. Which is why I wish to speak frankly to you about it.” He folded his hands on the table again. “Sans, I was honest when I said that I am very fond of Papyrus. Whatever relationship I have with him is a delight, and I'm happy being with him.”

“...not exactly winning brownie points with me, Doc.”

“I'm not trying to.” Dr. Gaster's hands flexed for a moment before he reached out and touched Sans's arm lightly. “I want to be clear here. I am not using you to get to him, or vice-versa. I am not simply taking what I want and leaving him or you with nothing. I like you both, individually, and I want nothing more than to take care of you both, individually.”

He paused, then gently scooped Sans out of the chair and into his lap, nuzzling the smaller Skeleton's skull. “I understand your view of this, Sans,” he said. “It's very unorthodox indeed, especially with him being your brother...but I AM capable of having feelings for more than one person at a time.”

Sans shifted in the older Skeleton's hold. “...what do you mean by that?” he asked, his cheekbones dusted blue.

“Exactly as I said,” Dr. Gaster replied. “I care for you, Sans, very much, with or without our agreement. You're intelligent, thoughtful, humble, hard-working and passionate...the fact that you are a Skeleton like myself is just icing.” He slipped his fingers under Sans's mandible, tipping the smaller Skeleton's head up. “I have been honest with you, Sans, about my feelings and my intentions. So do not doubt at all that I care for you.”

He pressed his teeth to Sans's lightly for a brief moment before leaning back. “I agreed that I would not proposition Papyrus,” he stated. “But seeing as how he is an adult and something IS already established between us, it would be best if you spoke to him again to make arrangements among yourselves.” He set Sans down, standing. “As I've stated...I am very fond of Papyrus, and loathe to deny him anything, but forming a sexual relationship with him without him knowing YOUR boundaries on the fact is inconsiderate on my part. If it comes down to it....a mutual arrangement can and will be made between the three of us.”

He leaned down, kissing the top of Sans's skull. “And as I stated before...Papyrus will not think any less of you if you tell him the truth. And it will certainly make things easier in the long run.” He turned and left the room quietly, leaving Sans to his own devices.

* * *

 

Sans knew that it wasn't as simple as searching out Papyrus and just talking, not when his own feelings were jumbled up and out of whack like this. After hearing out both sides of the story...he didn't know HOW to feel.

Part of him was angry it even happened. Another was relieved that at least it was consensual, and he didn't even WANT to know how he felt about it being PAPYRUS to initiate it. His feelings on Papyrus in general were just...a mess.

Finding out his little brother was the instigator of it all was bad enough, but having the knowledge that Papyrus had apparently been exchanging sexual favors at school for gods-only-knew-how-long was even worse. He wanted to kick himself for believing that everything was perfectly fine, that he KNEW Papyrus, that he was raising Papyrus well without help, only to have that belief system crash and burn in less than a twenty-four hour span of time.

NOW he had upset his brother for insinuating he didn't know what he was doing, and what was worse, Papyrus seemed hellbent on continuing what he had started with the doctor. And that made Sans...

….on a scrupulous level, it made Sans wary and worried and mad.

….on a personal level, it made Sans want to make eye contact with his little brother while he kissed Dr. Gaster in a territorial pissing match to end all territorial pissing matches once and for all.

And oh GODS was he fucked up for thinking that.

Papyrus had been right.

Sans felt—among other things—jealous.

Little thoughts kept popping up, like _wasn't I good enough for him?_ and _what can Papyrus give him that I can't?_ and _how can I make this better?_. It was INFURIATING that he even had to feel this way to begin with, but...there it was. Plain as day.

The question was...if he DID tell Papyrus about his arrangement with Dr. Gaster, and like the doctor said, would accept it...what then? Would Papyrus back off? Or would he just not care about the arrangement and focus on what he wanted instead?

It made a shudder run down Sans's spine, thinking of a relationship like THAT happening like a sordid love triangle. And how would that even WORK with everyone?

 _Doesn't it already?_ he found himself thinking. _It was perfectly fine when you were with Dr. Gaster, and when Papyrus had his time too. You would never have even known or cared if you hadn't gone downstairs for a snack._

But that was the POINT. It would have been a dirty, rotten, WRONG secret!

_So what if it wasn't? What would the difference REALLY be? You've seen the way the doctor and your brother are, the way they look at each other. And even PAPYRUS has seen the way Dr. Gaster looks at YOU. What would change?_

He would KNOW. THAT'S what would change. And could he even handle it, knowing that he'd be part of a double-relationship like that?

It seemed absurd, unthinkable, but he thought about all the shopping trips Dr. Gaster had taken Papyrus on, only to keep Sans in mind and buy him things too. He thought about being with Dr. Gaster and not once Papyrus coming up in conversation, all of Dr. Gaster's attention being on HIM.

_'I like you both, individually.'_

...DID he?

…..the past few months' experiences told Sans yes. Weird as it was, as seemingly IMPROBABLE is it was, Dr. Gaster seemed genuinely invested and interested in both Sans and Papyrus on different levels. Life experience in general, though, taught Sans that nothing THAT good could be true.

This wasn't exactly normal life, though, and Dr. Gaster wasn't exactly normal either.

Sans sighed. He would have to play this one close to the chest and hope for the best. Despite the unsettling oddity of it all...he was building a life he actually enjoyed here. He was furthering his schooling, he wasn't having to worry about bills or debt, Papyrus was being taken care of, and he was...

...happy.

He had been HAPPY. And he had certainly never seen Papyrus happier in his life.

And it occurred to him that the happiness could still be preserved.

Sans stared up at the ceiling before rubbing his face. He was crazy. He HAD to be crazy. He sat up and walked out of his room, trekking through the mansion until he was in front of a large door.

….....so crazy.

He knocked.

And waited.

The door opened and Dr. Gaster looked down at him. “...Sans. What's—“

Sans reached up, grabbing Dr. Gaster's lapel and jerking him down, pressing their teeth together. The doctor hesitated for a moment before holding Sans's shoulders, returning the kiss before leaning back. “What is this, Sans?”

Sans clenched his hands into Dr. Gaster's shirt tighter. “I'm still pissed, we STILL have to talk it over later, but right now, I'm still under contract and gods help me, I want an orgasm before I go insane from the stress you an' my brother have put me under.” He pulled Dr. Gaster down by the shirt closer. “FIX IT.”

Dr. Gaster gave a minute nod of understanding, kissing Sans again as he curled his arms around the smaller Skeleton and carried him into his room, kicking the door shut behind them.

 

 

 


	10. Open Honesty

Sans stared up at the ceiling, not really thinking about much about anything other than the dozing man next to him and what he'd done with him just hours ago. He could scarcely remember the details of what happened after he had gone to the doctor's room, but he couldn't help but feel a tingle of flush over his bones at the hazy pieces he could recall.

He had still been stinging and furious but Dr. Gaster still managed to find every spot to touch and button to push to make him forget—even for a moment—his anger and worry. If Dr. Gaster hadn't held him after and apologized for inconveniencing Sans's emotions, he would have thought he'd been played like a fiddle.

But sex with Monsters was different than it was with humans. For Monsters, they were close enough to get consistent soul readings and feelings from; for Monsters who relied purely on magic constructs, a la the Skeletons, it was damn near impossible to conceal ill will toward someone, especially one of the same magical inclination.

Sans had felt nothing but what he always did from Dr. Gaster—affection, care, adoration—but this time, there was also apology and extra attention. Sans had gone to him for a specific reason, and Dr. Gaster had fulfilled it.

Sans felt better, he really did...but now he was worried about feeling better. Jeeze, if the world was ending and Sans prayed for a miracle, he'd still find some way to worry about the miracle.

“You're doing it again.”

Sans jumped a little, flicking his eyelights over and seeing Dr. Gaster staring at him barely twelve inches away, purple eyelights glowing warmly in the dim light. Sans shifted a little, flexing his fingers into the sheets. “...doin' what?” he asked innocently. Dr. Gaster gave him a soft smile, reaching up and brushing his phalanges over Sans's skull lightly.

“You're over-analyzing and worrying again.” He leaned over, pressing his teeth to Sans's skull. “...worrying about what to say to Papyrus?”

Sans sighed, staring up at the ceiling again. “...somethin' like that,” he replied. “...not really a conversation you want to have with your little brother, y'know?”

“I know.” Dr. Gaster tucked his arm under Sans's back and pulled the smaller Skeleton to him. “But all the cards are on the table, Sans. We just have to figure out what to do with them.”

“Of all the times to not have an ace in the hole,” Sans muttered, allowing himself to relax in the doctor's hold. “...Can I take th' day off?”

“Afraid not,” Dr. Gaster replied. “The sooner it's done, the better. And Papyrus is an open-minded, agreeable sort. It'll be fine.”

Sans frowned, his soul aching from the revelations his brother had told him. “...he told me things,” he muttered softly. “...things that I...at school, he'd...” He felt the doctor's head nod, clenching his eye socket shut. “....he told you.”

“He did,” Dr. Gaster confirmed. “He confided in me during our shopping excursions, and further elaborated on the ride home from the concert. I promised I wouldn't tell you.” His arms tightened around Sans. “But rest assured, Sans, that it wasn't any fault of yours.”

“I wasn't—“

“Sans, I know how your mind works.” Dr. Gaster kissed Sans's head. “It was nothing you did or didn't do. It was something...regrettable...but it's something to work with him on. We can help him.”

Sans frowned, rubbing his face. “None of this seems...like it'll work with what you're suggesting...it seems counterproductive.”

“Letting him express his sexuality in a safe environment will help.” Dr. Gaster nuzzled Sans's skull before sitting up. “And rest assured that I will not take advantage of him or ignore him when he says no.”

He slid out of bed, grabbing his black silk house robe as Sans flopped back and went back to contemplating the ceiling, hardly even BELIEVING that he was considering this...considering sharing Dr. Gaster with his brother.

But he was. And in a short time, he was going to be open and honest.

However, it was Papyrus's honesty that he dreaded more than anything.

* * *

 

It took until Dr. Gaster dragged Sans out of bed with his magic before Sans finally got a shower and clothes on, though he internally groaned the whole time. Dr. Gaster led the way downstairs, giving Sans's shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Do you want some coffee?” he asked quietly.

“Sure,” Sans replied. “A shot of bourbon in it.”

“You'll get sugar and cream as always, Sans.” Dr. Gaster kissed Sans's skull. “In the den?”

Sans nodded. “The den sounds nice. I'll get the fireplace going.” He made his way to the den, starting up a fire and staring at it as it slowly warmed the room. He sat back on the seat, trying to force himself to relax. This wouldn't be horrible, he tried to tell himself. He would have a frank conversation with Papyrus. He would come to some sort of arrangement about...SHARING....

Oh gods, this wasn't going to go well, he just knew it.

***

Dr. Gaster returned with Papyrus some time later, carrying a tray with a coffee carafe and cups while Papyrus shuffled in after, wearing a pair of black house pants with tiny white bone patterns and a pink MTT concert shirt, looking just as unhappy with this Talk as Sans was.

The elder Skeleton set out the coffee and fixed up the three cups, handing one to Papyrus and another to Sans before sitting back with his own. “Now,” he said, his voice calm but authoritative, “we are going to discuss this calmly and respectfully. There will be no petty judgements or arguments. Sans, I realize Papyrus is your little brother, but he IS an adult. Papyrus, I know you hate being treated like you don't know better, but acting like an adult is a part of BEING an adult. Alright?”

The two younger Skeletons nodded, and he followed assent, taking a moment to sip his coffee. “Now. Who would like to speak first?”

Sans flexed his hands around his cup tightly for a moment before sighing. “...I will,” he said quietly. Dr. Gaster nodded, and reached back to the tray, picking up a folder that Sans recognized as containing the contract, handing it over. Sans held it in his hand, his jaw tightening for a moment before sighing. “...I've thought of a hundred different ways to phrase this....but I never really could find it...” he muttered, glancing at Papyrus. “So I'll just come out and say it. Paps....the reason I'm here to begin with...is because I DO work for Dr. Gaster...but....not for the way you think.”

He held out the folder to Papyrus, who stared at it for a moment before taking it and opening it, eyelights flicking over the papers, his expressions shifting from bewilderment to disbelief to a sort of 'ah-ha' understanding. After several long, grueling minutes, Papyrus closed the folder, his hand pressing on the front of it hard.

“...so, you're something between a ward and an escort,” he said evenly. Sans sat up a little, thinking _'huh, he's actually RIGHT'_.

“Uh...yeah,” he replied, his cheekbones blue with embarrassment. “I...Paps......I was in a really bad place....I was fired from the labs, an' there were SO many things that I needed money for, an'...” He flicked his eyelights to Dr. Gaster, who was sitting back patiently.

“And I had a proposition for him,” the doctor added in. “I felt it to be mutually beneficial.” He smiled softly. “You were quite a surprise to me, Papyrus. I would have gladly made allowances and arrangements for you.” He sipped his coffee quietly. “And as I told Sans, everything in there is written are my intentions, with full confidentiality and safety assurances.”

He set his cup down, crossing his legs and folding his hands on his knee. “I wanted someone to spoil and take care of, while I received company and pleasure in return. It was a whim that turned into something I truly love and treasure. With the BOTH of you.”

Papyrus looked over the papers thoughtfully, his phalanges twitching into the folder. “...so you...like us both,” he said slowly. Dr. Gaster nodded. “...do you want me to have one of these?” He nudged the folder.

“No!” both Sans and Dr. Gaster piped up at the same time. Sans shifted in his chair, his cheekbones dusted blue as Dr. Gaster gave him an assuring smile before turning to Papyrus.

“Papyrus, I won't do anything you don't want to,” the doctor said quietly. “And...as fond as I am of you....I also won't do anything that Sans is completely against. And while I would normally make it vice-versa, my commitment to Sans does come first. Which is why I would like everything to be out in the open, if anything further is to take place in this house.”

Papyrus closed the folder, setting it down beside him. “...I shouldn't HAVE to have Sans's permission,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

“I understand that,” Dr. Gaster said, “but considering he IS involved, HIS input should be taken into consideration.” Papyrus sighed, slumping in the chair.

“...I guess so...” He glanced at Sans. “...I'm sorry, Sans...”

Sans rubbed his nasal bone. “...it's alright, Paps...you didn't know about...that.” He wrung his hands before letting out a heavy breath. “...Papyrus, knowing how it really is...what do you think of this...arrangement?”

Papyrus shrugged a little. “...I like Dr. Gaster,” he replied. “And he likes me...and he likes you. I wouldn't object to sharing him.”

Sans felt like laughing and screaming at the same time. He didn't know if Papyrus was being earnest or ignorant; but remembering Papyrus's admissions, he leaned for the former. He rubbed his face before facing Papyrus. “Paps, I know we had The Talk, but.....did I make it clear that...you could tell me anything of that sort?”

Papyrus glanced sideways. “...sort of,” he replied. “...but you didn't seem to...WANT to...and I wasn't really all that PROUD of what I did...”

Sans gave him a shaky smile. “...I'm listenin' now,” he replied. “...and...I can't say anything about it, right?” He wrung his hands tightly. “Just...please tell me you were SAFE, at least...”

“Oh...oh, um....” Papyrus's cheekbones went orange. “I...didn't go THAT far...” He rubbed the back of his skull. “Just......” His jaw twitched, muttering, “Handjobs, blowjobs, and er..................bone jobs.”

It might have been Sans's imagination, but he SWORE Dr. Gaster smothered a snort. He wasn't too far behind, knowing that bone fondling could only be referred to as 'bone jobs'. “A...ah,” he stammered. “I see.” He heaved a sigh of relief. “...but you were still safe, though, right?”

Papyrus nodded. “Yes, I was,” he said. “I even made sure they put their phones away beforehand.”

Sans almost wanted to scream _'THAT'S MY SMART BRO'_ , but he settled for a thankful smile before rubbing his arm. “...so...we're....talkin' about this...” he muttered, looking between his brother and Dr. Gaster, who was sitting back patiently. “...we're really...talkin' about this.”

“It appears to be so,” Dr. Gaster replied. “I want you both to know that I can accommodate you both, just as it was before. I won't ask anything you both aren't agreeable to...and I encourage honestly from everyone. I've made it known that I am fond of BOTH of you, and anything you wish to know, I'll share _._ Alright?”

Papyrus smiled a little, nodding. “...alright,” he said, then glanced at Sans.

Sans rubbed his face, sighing for the umpteenth time. This wasn't exactly the way he imagined his life...well, he wasn't exactly sure HOW his life would be, considering his 'career'. But having his little brother exchanging sexual favors for money and whatnot was the biggest HELL-NO he could imagine, even bigger than his 'boss' being the object of Papyrus's affections.

Well fuck.

* _sigh*_

At least...if this was going to happen, it was going to be with someone Sans—somewhat—trusted, and had done right by Papyrus before. It was better than Papyrus displaying a late rebellious phase and sleeping around on a whim with gods-only-knew-who.

“....alright.”

* * *

 

If Sans had to give it to the other two, they were at least being tactful about it.

He needed more than a few days to wrap his head around the fact that he was going to be...SHARING his boss/lover with his little brother, who seemed MUCH more into the situation than should be considered normal.

Sans would've holed up in his room all damn day if Papyrus didn't have school (and if he didn't have a paper due), but Dr. Gaster was keen on making him have a life. While Papyrus was at school and Sans was done with his own classwork, Dr. Gaster would take him out to lunch, urge him to choose fun outings, and do his best to spoil him.

Sometimes Sans even forgot the bulk of this new arrangement. Dr. Gaster was completely earnest, as he always had been, and Sans was finding it harder and harder to keep his wall of anxiety up.

It was harder, though, seeing affection being divided between himself and Papyrus.

When Papyrus came home, he made no effort to smother down his displays of affection toward Dr. Gaster. The younger Skeleton would hug the doctor, give him kisses on the cheekbone, and cuddle up to him when there was quiet time in the den. Sans tried to not be around too often, but Dr. Gaster INSISTED on dinner together.

Well, THOSE Sans didn't mind so much. Dinner was not a quiet affair at all; Papyrus always had something to talk about, Dr. Gaster kept conversation flowing, and both egged Sans into the conversations. Soon enough, Sans would participate without prompting, and it was...

…....nice.

Sans hadn't had lively dinnertime conversations since his parents died; even when he and Papyrus found themselves settled in the Eastern District, Sans and Papyrus were both too tired to speak about anything more than something of importance over dinner, but now...dinner sometimes lasted over an hour with all everyone had to say.

Dinner was finished and the dishes were cleared, and the three adjourned to the den where they began an hour or so of quiet time just being in the same room together. Papyrus usually did some clothing customization—he was really into patching nowadays—while Sans curled up with a book and Dr. Gaster went over work files.

Over time, Sans noticed that the three gradually began to group together; tonight, in fact, Dr. Gaster was sitting on one end of the couch looking over his tablet as Sans reclined next to him with a book, and Papyrus sat on the floor with his patches and a denim vest, leaning his shoulder against the doctor's leg as he sewed. Sans took a break after a chapter to take note of the fact, seeing how completely comfortable and at ease with the experience.

And yeah.

It was nice.

At ten-thirty, Papyrus put his sewing away and stretched before standing up. “I'm going to bed now,” he announced, leaning down and kissing Dr. Gaster's skull and hugging Sans before flouncing out. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight, Papyrus,” Dr. Gaster replied, turning his tablet off. He remained sitting as Sans polished off a chapter, turning his attention to the smaller Skeleton when Sans closed the book. “...Sans, might I speak with you?”

Sans took pause, nodding and putting his book down. “...sure,” he said, sitting up. “What about?”

Dr. Gaster drummed his fingers over his tablet for a moment before sighing. “Papyrus will want to speak with you about it tomorrow, I'm sure...but I wanted to give you the heads-up about it.” He gave Sans a serious look. “...Papyrus has told me...that he wishes to become intimate.”

Sans fought down the surge of instinctive panic, keeping his cool. “...a...alright...” he said, flexing his hands into his pant legs. “...um....whew, alright....” He took a few deep breaths before finally relaxing. “...when?”

“I'm not entirely sure. He just said he WANTED to, not WHEN. But we both want to let you know.”

Sans rubbed his face. “Y'know, it would be both worse and better if ya DIDN'T let me know when, just for my peace of mind...” He slumped against the seat. “...shit, most brothers wouldn't give a shit who their brother slept with...”

“But you raised him,” Dr. Gaster added. “And it's different that way.” He reached out, taking one of Sans's hands. “....Sans, Papyrus wants to be open and honest with you...but he's just as good as you at keeping secrets...but this is a secret I wouldn't WANT him to keep. And it shouldn't be a secret at all.” He kissed Sans's skull. “It's HIS experience, but he's YOUR brother. And you should know he'll be safe and happy. I promise.”

Sans rubbed his nasal bone. “...I dunno if I should be happy an' relieved or embarrassed an' offended...” he muttered.

“I would go for 'happy, yet embarrassed', but that's just me,” Dr. Gaster said, standing. “I'm turning in for the night. You?”

“...nah, I think I'll finish my book,” Sans replied, holding his book up. “...maybe crack into the minibar.”

Dr. Gaster gave him a sad smile, petting Sans's skull. “Don't turn it into a problem, Sans,” he said, only half-joking. “I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow before I go to the labs and give you and Papyrus time to talk.” He kissed Sans's skull. “Goodnight, Sans.”

Sans gave him a half-smile. “...'night, Doctor,” he replied. Dr. Gaster smiled and left.

….......................................

….......................................

….......well.

This was a thing.

He figured it would happen, but now...

…..........ugh, forget the liquor, he needed five shots of NyQuil and a robitussin chaser.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well golly, looks like Paps is gonna lose his V card pretty soon. Wonder how THAT will pan out.


	11. First Time's the Charm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in the Sin Bin now. It is my home. But here's a gift for my housewarming party!

Sans was glad for Saturdays; not just for them being his designated off-days, but for it being a time to get his personal shit in order. 'Personal shit' being his own thoughts and emotions and, admittedly, his relationship with Papyrus.

While they had been poor and only seeing each other before school and after work, their relationship had been good and happy. Sans provided as best he could, and Papyrus did everything he could to make things easier on Sans. Most other kids in their situation would have not made it that easy, but Papyrus was always more intuitive than the average Monster.

Of course, that had been BEFORE Sans knew that Papyrus had been exchanging sexual favors for extra money and whatnot and had been hiding school function fliers from Sans. Ignorance truly was bliss, because after open honesty came into the light, he found a dark stain on his view of Papyrus that he didn't think would ever go away.

It shouldn't bother him beyond the fact that Papyrus was doing those things out of desperation, but then he had really thought about it and realized that it WASN'T out of desperation. Papyrus had done those things for money to buy things he didn't necessarily NEED, just WANTED. But being that he knew Sans didn't have a dime to spare, he got the money HIMSELF, but was smart enough to make it just enough money to buy just small enough things that Sans wouldn't notice.

And being that he was now taken in by a very rich benefactor, Papyrus didn't NEED to play it smart and hide his frivolity anymore. He knew Sans was EXPECTING to see what Papyrus picked out, and made no attempt to keep it to a minimum. Papyrus was a smart enough Monster to know what he wanted, but how to adjust how he GOT it.

The sheer amount of cunning and deliberate PLANNING that went into Papyrus's mindset of things both gave Sans a grudging appreciation for his brother's mindset, and heavy worry for it. He knew that Monsters of their status and situation had to be careful and cunning as it was, but had Sans REALLY been so blind that he didn't realize that Papyrus was just as cunning, if not more so, as everyone else in their District?

The revelation of Papyrus's money acquisitions and knowing that Papyrus made the first move on Dr. Gaster told him yes. Yes he had been.

Sans made his coffee extra strong as he headed off to look for Papyrus, wanting to get this conversation over with before he lost his nerve. Papyrus was still in his room picking out an outfit to wear, his door cracked to show it was fine to come in. Sans glanced around, seeing that Papyrus had completely made himself at home here. While the room was tidy—Papyrus ALWAYS kept his room neat no matter where he was—it was chalk-full of personality and homeyness, with MTT posters on the wall, printed pictures—mostly selfies of himself and some with Dr. Gaster and Sans—and odd knickknacks here and there.

His closet was a massive walk-in, something Sans was not surprised with, and was already almost full with clothing of all varieties—naturally, in rainbow order. Papyrus was inside, picking out a pair of tight jeans and a warm purple sweater, and looked up when Sans stepped in. “Good morning, Sans!” he chirped, holding the sweater up. “You like? Dr. Gaster picked it out for me a few days ago!”

Sans took a longer-than-necessary sip of his coffee. “It's nice, bro,” he said, averting his eyelights out of courtesy when Papyrus changed into his outfit. “...so....the doctor told me you had....something to talk about.”

Papyrus rubbed the sleeve of another shirt between his phalanges for a moment, his cheekbones turning orange. “...I did,” he replied. “Do...YOU want to talk about it?”

Sans nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.” He stepped out of the closet and pulled out Papyrus's desk chair, sitting himself down as his brother sat back on the edge of his bed. “...just to be clear, it's about...you wanting to...”

Papyrus nodded. “Yes,” he said, his cheekbones darkening but his tone resolute. “I want to have sex with Dr. Gaster.”

Oh various gods, give him strength. Sans sipped his coffee again. “And...you're SURE,” he said quietly. “No pressuring or anything right?”

“Yes, Sans,” Papyrus answered, nodding. “I am sure. I like him very much, and he likes me. I feel comfortable with him, and I trust him. I wanted to let YOU know so there wouldn't be any.....you know....awkwardness.”

 _Toooooooo late for that._ Sans nodded, rubbing his temple with his free hand. He knew that while he COULD raise a stink about it and Dr. Gaster would back down, it would do absolutely zero good on Papyrus's part. His brother already made it known that if he wanted something, he would get it by whatever means he had to, and quite frankly Sans didn't want to imagine where Papyrus would go for sex if not here.

“Sans...” Papyrus piped up, wringing his hands together. “...I realize that this is...very difficult for you...but it doesn't HAVE to be so awkward and weird. Dr. Gaster likes both of us, but he likes both of us in different ways. He isn't trying to lump us together...he's taking the time to make us BOTH happy.” He gave Sans a smile. “...I notice how much EASIER he's made your life since you started working for him...how much happier you were, knowing you were being taken care of. It doesn't have to stop, you know.” He shrugged. “It's not like me and him are going to be flaunting it around.

“I mean...knowing that he's been with you too doesn't bother me!” He shrugged. “In fact...it makes me feel BETTER about it, knowing how much he's made you happy. If you weren't happy with how he did it, you'd let him know, right?” He smiled. “It makes it easier, knowing he'll do the same for me.”

Sans rubbed his face, knowing it was blue by now, and bit back a sigh. Leave it to him to put in that vote of confidence for Papyrus in this matter. Brilliant. But...he could sort of see Papyrus's point, and couldn't help but feel a smidgen better because Papyrus was right. Dr. Gaster WAS very attentive and generous, and listened to what Sans wanted. Agh, fine. As long as they really DIDN'T flaunt it...

“...alright,” he said quietly. “Just....don't give me the blow-by-blow later.”

“...was that a pun?”

Sans sputtered on his coffee, wiping his mandible as Papyrus snorted, standing up and walking over, squeezing Sans's shoulder. “Sans...it doesn't bother ME,” Papyrus said softly. “So don't let it bother YOU. He cares for you a great deal, and he knows that hurting me would hurt you too.” He kissed the top of Sans's skull. “So I know he'll make my first time special.” He smiled, walking out of the room towards the kitchen for breakfast.

Sans sat where he was for a few moments, staring into what was left of his coffee as it finally sunk in what Papyrus told him.

Oh gods.

His boss was going to take his little brother's virginity.

* * *

 

He tried. Ohhhh, how Sans tried to not let it bother him. But no matter what he was doing, it was always in the back of his mind that at some point very soon, his brother and Dr. Gaster were going to be having sex in this house.

Oh, it was implied that when they told him he could leave for awhile to his peace of mind, but there would be NO peace on his mind knowing that it was going to be happening. And despite the talks and reassurances, Sans was still worried.

If it were anyone else, in any other circumstance, Sans knew it would be none of his business. Papyrus was a young, virile Skeleton with urges, and it was best he have a healthy exploration of them like any other Monster. But this was his boss, Dr. Gaster, someone twice and a half Papyrus's age, and someone whom Sans was already involved with. And while Sans knew deep down in his soul that Dr. Gaster would, in fact, take care of Papyrus, it was still something not so easy to get off his mind.

It was weighed especially heavy today, the day he KNEW it would happen.

It was Saturday again, and at the breakfast table, Dr. Gaster and Papyrus were shooting each other long, meaningful looks. Papyrus's cheekbones were dusted with orange, and Sans could almost feel the pulsing of his little brother's soul in his rib cage. When Dr. Gaster announced he had to run into the city for a few things, Papyrus had curled his arms around the older Skeleton's neckbones and kissed him for a food few long seconds before wishing him a good trip off.

Sans stood back like a third wheel, his hands wringing tightly as Dr. Gaster left and Papyrus turned toward him.

“...it's tonight, Sans,” Papyrus told him, mirroring Sans's hand-wringing. “...if...you want to be somewhere else tonight, then...I'm sure Dr. Gaster will make arrangements...”

Sans only nodded, his cheekbones inked in blue. It was tonight then. He had his talk with Papyrus and Dr. Gaster, the date was set, and it was happening.

The buildup should NOT be this intense, he thought to himself as he made his way to his room to sleep off his mid-morning migraine.

* * *

 

So Sans said he'd occupy himself while Dr. Gaster and Papyrus were busy...he never really said he'd leave the mansion though.

He'd thought about it, he really did, and he got it into his head somehow that he should...check on things. A part of him was screeching at how inappropriate and bad for his mental state that would be, but the big brother in him won out.

Yes, he HAD stepped out for a bit—to grab some dinner at the bistro downtown—but when he came back, it was dark outside, it was dark INSIDE, and everything was quiet. He made his way upstairs, knowing that Dr. Gaster was doing this in Papyrus's room (considering he shared his bed with Sans on occasion, it was a courtesy he had thoughtfully extended), and indeed saw a soft, dim light in his little brother's room through the cracked door.

 _You shouldn't be doing this. Just turn around, go to your room, put on your headphones, and drown it_ out.

He wished he could listen to reason more often, he really did. But he had to just...check in. Not creepy at all.

_You creep._

He slipped up to the door, his face going warm when he heard his little brother's soft moaning, his hands flexing tightly at his sides.

_Turn away and go before you see something you regret!_

Goddamn stubbornness, just LISTEN...!

He didn't listen.

Instead, he looked.

* * *

Papyrus never thought he'd be THIS bashful when it came time; he hadn't been when he had propositioned the doctor for sex in the car ride home, nor when he had pulled his skirt up in offering to Dr. Gaster once they were home. But being completely bareboned and looked over like a piece of art was cause for bashfulness, apparently.

His frame was dusted all over in a light orange, his soul pulsing in his rib cage as the doctor took time to run his long, elegant hands over his bones, mapping out every tender, sensitive spot for future reference. It was doubling the shyness with the fact that Dr. Gaster had yet to fully undress, leaving him at a slight disadvantage in the modesty department.

Dr. Gaster smiled at Papyrus's obvious shyness; having a young gung-ho Skeleton proposition him was one thing, but this was something new and adorable, and he didn't want to rush it.

He took his time finding every spot he knew would make Papyrus shudder all over before sitting back and tugging his sweater off. He and Papyrus had discussed how they would do this, and came to a mutual agreement that Papyrus would be the one on top with Dr. Gaster as the director, something to give a balanced sense of control over.

He reached down to unfasten his pants, only to find Papyrus's hands already busy, the younger Skeleton's eyelights glimmering excitedly. He smiled, allowing Papyrus to do so, and only made a move to intervene when Papyrus made a move to lean down closer, gently pushing Papyrus back up.

“This is for you, Papyrus,” he purred, brushing his thumb over Papyrus's cheekbone. “There will be plenty of time for frivolity later. For now....” He leaned down, pressing his teeth to Papyrus's, swiping his constructed tongue between the gap between Papyrus's jaws. Papyrus shivered, parting his teeth and kissing Dr. Gaster back as the older Skeleton pushed his pants off and kicked them over the side of the bed.

Papyrus curled his arms around Dr. Gaster's shoulders, leaning up and pushing the doctor back and shifting around to straddle over his pelvis. Dr. Gaster stroked his hands along Papyrus's femurs, not even having to look to know that Papyrus's magic had already formed itself into a thick, eager mound that was almost throbbing against his pelvis, and he resisted the urge to take full initiative and take the younger Skeleton completely.

But no. Not now.

There would be time for that later.

For NOW, he leaned back and held Papyrus's iliac spines in his hands, letting his own magic form under the younger Skeleton, reveling in the deep flush on Papyrus's face when their magic made brushing contact. “Are you alright, Papyrus?” he asked, massaging his thumbs into the bone.

Papyrus nodded, shifting his hips for a moment before reaching down to stroke at Dr. Gaster's tendril-like appendage, shuddering as he positioned himself over it. Dr. Gaster's hands tightened around his iliac spines comfortingly.

“Ready?” he asked. Papyrus nodded, bracing his hands on Dr. Gaster's shoulders before lowering himself down, keening sharply at the sensation of magic against magic. Dr. Gaster's hands tightened again, but Papyrus pushed down until pelvis met pelvis, his soul pulsing wildly in his rib cage. Dr. Gaster's purple eyelights glowed brighter as he leaned up, nuzzling at Papyrus's skull. “...still alright?”

Papyrus let out a violent shiver before nodding, sweat beading slightly on his bones. “...I...I'm alright...” he whimpered, his magic quivering around the doctor's. “It's......just very.....” He twitched his hips experimentally, letting out a sharp gasp at the sensation it caused.

Dr. Gaster smiled, kissing at Papyrus's cheekbone. “I know,” he purred. “Take all the time you need, Papyrus, no need to rush.”

Papyrus nodded again, taking his usual gung-ho initiative before much longer and rocked his hips slowly, whimpering loudly with each movement. Dr. Gaster purred loudly, dragging his teeth and tongue over Papyrus's neckbones and clavicles, keeping his hands firmly clasped into the younger's iliac spines as he helped him move on him, gradually feeling Papyrus move faster the more comfortable he became.

“D...doctor...!” Papyrus whimpered, clenching his hands into the sheets on either side of Dr. Gaster, his movements becoming bolder and more confident. He buried his face into Dr. Gaster's shoulder, moaning louder. “...it's so good...oh gods, doctor...!”

“Keep going, Papyrus,” Dr. Gaster growled back, sliding a hand back to rub over Papyrus's sacrum and being rewarded with a yelp and hard bucking from the younger Skeleton. “Oh, you like that?”

Papyrus keened loudly, bucking on the doctor harder. “Yes...!” he wailed, panting into Dr. Gaster's shoulder. “Please, more, it's—AH—!” He moaned louder when Dr. Gaster pinched at his coccyx. “Oh gods, daddy, yes!”

Dr. Gaster's grip on Papyrus's pelvis was almost bruising, hearing that salacious term of endearment that Papyrus let slip out being used so LEWDLY. Even more endearing was Papyrus's stammering to cover the slip up, but Dr. Gaster would be having NONE of that. He pinched at Papyrus's coccyx again, nipping at sensitive cervical vertebrae in tandem to tear apart Papyrus's half-formed attempt to take it back.

“That's it, Papyrus,” he purred, his hands stroking and pinching as his magic throbbed inside of Papyrus's own. “Tell daddy what you want.”

Papyrus let out a wail of overstimulation and embarrassment, his face pressed against Dr. Gaster's shoulder, his hips bucking hard with a will of their own. “...I...I want...” He yelped with Dr. Gaster rubbed the underside of his sacrum hard.

“Tell daddy what you want,” Dr. Gaster repeated, his voice taking an authoritative tone that made Papyrus's backbone shudder. “Use your words, Papyrus.”

“I...I w-want...d-daddy to...” Papyrus trailed off, pressing his body closer to the doctor's, his hips bucking more insistently. Dr. Gaster growled, holding Papyrus's hips down tightly to restrict his movements. “Oh gods PLEASE...!”

“Please WHAT?”

Papyrus wailed louder, his whole frame shaking. “PLEASE DADDY, FUCK ME!” he cried, barely having time to register his own request before they were both rolled over and Dr. Gaster was thrusting into him fast, the sensations catching up to him quickly enough as he latched on for dear life. “GODS DADDY PLEASE, JUST LIKE THAT—“ His phalanges dug into the older Skeleton's bones hard, almost enough to grate bone against bone. “Oh gods oh gods oh GODS, DADDY—!”

Dr. Gaster groaned loudly, feeling Papyrus orgasm around him hard enough for even the younger Skeleton's soul to spurt slightly through his rib cage. The sight alone was enough to finish him off for this round, pulling back just in time to coat Papyrus's femurs and pelvis with his own purple-tinged orgasmic magical residue. His frame shuddered hard as he rode out his high, looking down at Papyrus and seeing nothing but BLISS on the younger Skeleton's features.

He leaned down, nuzzling Papyrus's face with his teeth until the younger Skeleton was coherent enough to reciprocate, feeling Papyrus's arms shakily reach up and curl around him weakly, not bothered at all by the slight mess they'd made. He pressed soft kisses to Papyrus's teeth and face for several long minutes until the younger stopped shaking, leaning back with a soft smile.

“Are you alright?” he asked, brushing his hand over Papyrus's face. Papyrus nodded, slumping back on his bed.

“I am,” he murmured in reply. “...I'm feeling pretty tired now...”

Dr. Gaster chuckled, shifting the bedding so Papyrus was not laying in a mess, reaching over to get the dampened washcloth he had prepared beforehand and gently cleaned off the younger's bones. “That's to be expected,” he said. “Magical use of THIS sort takes some time to get used to.”

Papyrus yawned, curling up onto his side as the doctor shifted him over to get behind his pelvis. “...would it be rude of me to sleep now?” he asked. Dr. Gaster smiled adoringly, leaning down and kissing Papyrus's skull.

“Not at all,” he replied. “You rest up, Papyrus, daddy will be here while you sleep.”

He took pleasure in the younger Skeleton's blush, finishing his tidy-up before tugging up the duvet and spooning Papyrus to him, allowing himself to watch Papyrus dozing before dropping off to sleep himself.

* * *

Sans laid back on his bed, his headphones on, his pillow over his skull, and every light turned off, but it still wasn't enough to rid him of what he had heard. Of what he had SEEN. He was damned for an eternity of his own making for his morbid curiosity, and he damn well deserved it.

He threw the pillow off of his skull, his face a blazing azure that wasn't to go away any sooner than the magic coalescing in his shorts. If he got any sleep tonight, it would be a goddamn miracle.

If only he'd gone for the NyQuil and robitussin.

Sans sighed heavily, feeling the heat of his blush on his face as he covered it with one arm while the other hand inched toward his waistband, only Dr. Gaster's face and body in mind that gave him SOME form of peace of mind as he dipped his hands into his shorts and pretended his brother wasn't even in the picture to begin with.

He'd deal with the shame tomorrow.

 

 


	12. It's My Party and I'll Fuck Who I Want To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the inspiration for this story, Spoopy-Gaster on tumblr! Happy birthday, I managed to finish it out for you for today!

Things changed after that.

Sans KNEW that things would be different, and he thought he was PREPARED for it, but he had been wrong. He had prepared for Dr. Gaster and Papyrus being more touchy-feely and intimate around him. He had prepared for times being reserved for Papyrus now. But what he HADN'T been prepared for was Dr. Gaster acting EXACTLY THE SAME.

Sans didn't think things would be the same for him and Dr. Gaster once Papyrus was officially part of the picture, but the doctor was seamless in transitioning his attentions from Papyrus to Sans.

On Monday, Dr. Gaster ate breakfast with Papyrus and Sans, walked Papyrus to the door, gave him a goodbye kiss, and then turned to Sans and began a conversation about his schooling and offered to go into town for lunch.

It seemed like a mostly platonic affair until he was in the car, where Dr. Gaster held his hand the whole way to the restaurant and got a private table for them to be more openly intimate in.

Although Sans had heard Dr. Gaster's reasoning and assurances that he enjoyed Papyrus and Sans separately—but apparently equally—and was obviously making it a proven FACT, Sans still couldn't seem to wrap his mind around it. Here Dr. Gaster was, sitting at a small private table, resting his hand over Sans's, and looking at him with such tenderness in his eyelights that it almost made Sans blush like a schoolkid, and just hours ago, had been kissing Sans's brother, and two days BEFORE that, LITERALLY had his brother calling him Daddy.

But it was all so GENUINE, and so OPEN and HONEST, that Sans was at a conflict with himself over whether or not he was—or should be—okay with it. Dr. Gaster was happy, PAPYRUS was happy, but Sans...just couldn't get his head around it, or his soul into it.

It wasn't for lack of TRYING...he just couldn't seem to do it. And if he was being honest, if he wasn't being paid for this, he wouldn't be a part of it.

But he endured, and strove to enjoy it as much as he could.

* * *

 

“Is there anything you want for your birthday, Sans?”

Sans looked up from his dinner at Dr. Gaster, blinking at the sudden question. He honestly hadn't thought much about it, having been far too busy the past few years to think much about his birthday. Except for the year it fell on a Sunday, he hadn't had his birthday off in that long. This year it fell on a Tuesday, and he naturally thought it would be the same way.

He shrugged a little, spearing a carrot with his fork. “Th' day off,” he replied honestly. And really, it was. A weekday to himself with some extra spending cash in his pocket had been his birthday dream for a long while, and right now it actually seemed doable.

Dr. Gaster smiled. “Of course, that was a given,” he said genially. “I meant anything special.”

“Th' past few years considering, that IS special,” Sans said. “Just th' day off, and some hours to myself. That's all.”

The doctor nodded, finishing off his drink. “Then consider it done,” he replied. “I'll have to think of something extra special for you on your birthday evening.”

“Same,” Papyrus chimed in. “I never really had much to get you the past few years, so I'll have to think really hard to get you something special this year!”

“Guys, really, a day off to myself is more than enough!” Sans exclaimed, his cheekbones dusting blue. “Everyone needs a personal day, y'know?”

“Oh, we know,” Papyrus said, standing to gather up the dishes. “But that doesn't mean you can't have your cake and eat it too. You can have a day off and STILL have special gifts waiting at home when you get back!” He kissed the top of Sans's skull before skipping off with the dirty dishes and gather up desert.

Dr. Gaster folded his hands on the table, smiling at Sans. “Truly, is there nothing more you want other than a day off?” he asked quietly.

_“I want my life to make sense again.'_

_'I want a career that doesn't include a sex contract.'_

_'I want my brother to not shack up with someone over twice his age.'_

“Nah. A day off is just what I need.”

Dr. Gaster nodded. “Alright,” he said. “A day off it is. But you know I'll be getting you something else, and so will Papyrus. It'll be a good day for you, I promise.”

Sans gave him a small smile back, then sat quietly waiting for Papyrus to come back with the coffee and cheesecake.

* * *

 

Saturday was unofficially Papyrus's day with Dr. Gaster, and Sans made himself as scarce as possible, for his own sanity. He took the car into the city, drove aimlessly, then parked it in a garage and boarded a bus, feeling the urge to go back to the East, just for a look-see.

Being in the North for so long, the East was a striking sight, but he knew this area like the back of his metacarpals and easily spotted out a few places. After some wandering, feeling glad his simpler clothing wasn't standing out too much here, he made his way into a bar he used to frequent, everything the same, save for—

“Sans? Is that YOU?”

Sans looked up sharply, beaming when he saw his old friend Grillby staring at him from the other side of the bar. He hurried up, getting a seat up front. “Grillby, hi!” he exclaimed. “What're you doin' back in town, I thought you moved!”

Grillby shrugged, giving Sans a half-smile. “Eh, Aunt Ember fell down,” he said, wiping down a glass. Sans nodded; he used to hear about Grillby's shrew of an aunt. “Her husband is useless without her, so I came back to help Mom with their kids.” He put the glass away, putting the cloth down. “And what about YOU, Sans? No one's seen so much as a bone chip from you forever!”

Sans shifted, his cheekbones dusted blue. “I...got a new job,” he replied. “...working right under Dr. Gaster.”

Grillby stared. “THE Dr. Gaster? Dr. Gaster. The president of G-Labs, Inc.” Sans nodded. “...WOW. Congrats on that, Sans, really!” He grinned, leaning his head on a hand. “I'd offer you a drink, but you're probably used to the top-shelf stuff by now, eh?”

“Oh please, don't insult me OR your fire vodka, Grillbz,” Sans retorted, slapping down some G. “I'll have it over ice.”

“Don't YOU insult ME, adding that filth to our finest brews,” Grillby shot back good-naturedly, fixing Sans up a glass and pushing it toward him. “It's slow for now, so tell me EVERYTHING.”

* * *

 

Sans might have skimped on the 'everything' part, but for the rest, he put in what he could, easily losing track of the time catching up with his old friend. Grillby caught up on his own story, the two talking through Grillby's shift into the evening.

“Hey, you wanna do something?” Grillby asked after clocking out. “Catch a movie, go for a drive?”

Sans grinned. “Yeah, that sounds great!” he replied. “I haven't seen a new movie in forever. Anything good?”

“I know you're a sucker for historical dramas, so there's one of those...”

* * *

Sans didn't think he would be able to feel this kind of camaraderie and fun again since Grillby left a couple years ago, but his free spaces were sent texting him back and forth, catching up on current events, and the day before Sans's birthday, he got another last-call text from Grillby before bed.

_I know tomorrow is your birthday, so do you want to go out for lunch? My treat._

Sans smiled; tomorrow IS his birthday off, and catching up with an old friend was right up his alley. He texted back **wouldnt miss it** before turning his phone off and cuddling into bed.

Breakfast the next morning seemed a bit extravagant; Papyrus and the house chef had outdone themselves with anything and everything Sans would enjoy, and the three of them ate in anticipation for the day.

“You're not getting' out of school just because it's my birthday,” he said to Papyrus, who huffed but smiled.

“Of course not, Sans! There's plenty of time after school to celebrate!” He went back to his food until it was time for his ride to school, grabbing his bag before hugging Sans tightly. “You have a great birthday, Sans! See you later!” He hurried out to the waiting car, leaving Dr. Gaster alone with Sans.

“I'm glad you're in good spirits,” Dr. Gaster said, finishing off what was on his plate. “I truly hope you enjoy your day, Sans.”

Sans gave him a little smile before draining his coffee cup. “I know I will,” he said. “I'm actually catching up with an old friend today, so there's that.”

“Oh?” Dr. Gaster inquired, resting his mandible on his folded hands. “Back from the East?”

Sans nodded. “Yeah. His name's Grillby, an' we've been friends for years. He helped me out a little after my parents fell down, let me an' Paps crash at his place for awhile...I was really sad when he moved away, but he's back now.” He pushed back from the table, stretching. “See you later, then.” He headed for the door, and was stopped when Dr. Gaster reached out and caught his hand.

Dr. Gaster lifted Sans's hand to his teeth, kissing it lightly. “I can't wait to give you my gift, Sans,” he said, “but I want Papyrus there too to give you his. Have fun and enjoy yourself today.”

Sans blushed, nodding a little before heading to his room to change and grab his keys, wondering what Dr. Gaster could have gotten him that just couldn't wait.

He drove down to the parking garage and took a bus to the meeting point, waving enthusiastically when he saw his friend. “Hey, ready to go?” he asked.

“BEEN ready,” Grillby retorted, hugging Sans. “Happy birthday, Sans!” He hugged Sans tightly. “I've got lunch planned out, don't worry about that, and your present later.”

“Lunch is good enough, you know that,” Sans muttered, but smiled as he headed off with Grillby.

Lunch was at a nice restaurant on the border of East/South Districts, where Grillby INSISTED on paying for the meal. Sans only agreed after Grillby playfully threatened to 'make a scene', and the two enjoyed a couple hours of eating and drinking before heading out to have a day in the South District.

Sans fell back into the comfortable routine feeling with Grillby, having missed being with a good friend more his life speed. He just felt so at home with casual, worn-in clothes, effortlessly sliding back into his East accent without shame, and allowing his 'low-class' sense of humor to shine through without censorship. Grillby strolled along just as comfortably, laughing at Sans's jokes and telling a few of his own as he picked up a few food things for them both to enjoy.

They made it back to the East in the late afternoon, heading to Grillby's apartment which was sparsely furnished but comfortable and always smelling of good food. “Seriously, Grillbz, you should go into cooking,” Sans said, sitting back on the couch. “I can see you running your own restaurant.”

Grillby snorted, rooting around the kitchen. “Yeah, maybe when I cash in my retirement,” he retorted. “Not a lot of places worth working at will hire an Easterner, you know that.”

Sans reflexively thought of Dr. Gaster's house chef putting in a good word but he managed to quell down saying anything; he didn't want to open up a can of worms he'd be forced to eat later. “...yeah, I know,” he said. “Soooo, I believe I was lured here with the promise of a birthday present. Care to pay up?”

“Oh, you're so impatient, Sans, you haven't changed a bit,” Grillby joked back before walking in and giving Sans a bag. “Here, I hope you like it.”

Sans grinned, opening the bag and peeking inside. “....oh my gods,” he breathed. “Are you even kidding me!?” He pulled out a large red glass bottle filled to the brim and sealed tight. “You can't be serious!”

“Original brew fire vodka,” Grillby affirmed, grinning. “Aged fifty years, right out of my grandfather's storage. Happy birthday, Sans.” He reached behind him, bringing out a set of antique crystal tumblers. “Care to crack it open?”

“Grillby, are you crazy? Do you know how much you can sell just this bottle for?” Sans cried, holding the bottle almost delicately in his hands. “And you want to OPEN it?!”

Grillby shrugged, sitting down next to Sans and holding a tumbler out. “I can't think of a more important reason to open it than for a good friend's birthday.” He gave Sans a wink. “Plus, I MAY or may not have a key to Granddad's liquor cellar.”

Sans shook his head, laughing. “Grillby, you are somethin' else,” he said, unsealing the bottle and opening it, the scent of pure fire reaching his olfactory senses. “Only you would break somethin' like this open for a birthday.”

Grillby poured out two tumblers, handing Sans one. “Seein' Aunt Ember's dust got me thinking...” he said, taking a sip from his glass. “...she kept fine china and silver packed away, never being used for anything...and in the end, she dusted anyway. So...you know...what use is MAKING fire vodka if it's never consumed?”

Sans sipped his own, hissing as it went down. “...sorry about your aunt,” he said. “Really, man.” Grillby nodded, sitting back.

“...I missed you, Sans,” he murmured softly, his tone making Sans look up. “...really. I missed you...I missed....US.”

Sans's cheekbones turned blue; oh yes....he had missed what he had with Grillby as well, years ago. To Monsters, both in shitty financial situations, just wanting to have comfort in one another. They were the very definition of 'friends with benefits', and Sans had been sad to see Grillby move away. “...I missed.....us too,” he replied, sipping his drink again, almost jostling his glass when he felt a warm fiery hand cover his.

Grillby squeezed Sans's hand lightly. “...feel completely free to say no,” he said quietly, “...but if you...ever want to pick it back up...I'd like that.”

Sans's blushing darkened, his mind automatically going to Dr. Gaster, and what it would mean, what the doctor would even SAY about something like this—

_He never said you couldn't._

THAT gave him some pause; it was very true that Dr. Gaster never put anything in the agreement about staying monogamous; hell, even HE didn't stay monogamous. So what was the problem?

None. None at all.

Sans wanted a life outside of that ivory mansion, and Grillby coming back had to be a sign to start it up again.

With a gleam of determination in his eyelight, Sans downed the rest of his glass, ignored the burn, and turned to Grillby, leaning in and kissing the Fire Monster hard. Grillby started for only a moment before kissing back, managing to put his own glass down before curling his arms around Sans and kissing back.

Sans groaned softly, having almost forgotten the feeling of the magic fire against him that seeped through his bones and sent warmness right to his soul. He kissed Grillby harder, shrugging off his jacket and shuddered hard as Grillby's hands went under his shirt to rub at his ribs. Before he was able to drop his jacket to the floor, his phone rang from inside the pocket, recognizing the ringtone as Papyrus's.

“Ah....shit, gi—gimme a minute...” he panted, fumbling around his jacket and pulling out his phone and seeing that it was a text.

_WE ARE WAITING FOR YOU TO COME HOME, SANS! WE CAN'T WAIT TO GIVE YOU YOUR PRESENTS!_

Sans read through it twice, his thumb tracing the reply button for a few moments before Grillby leaned back.

“...do you need to leave?” he asked. Sans glanced at him, seeing Grillby staring at him with redder-tinged fire on his face and his shirt half-undone and oohhhhhh, no, this wasn't going to waste.

Sans smiled. “Nah,” he said, quickly thumbing a text back before putting his phone on silent, reaching out to pull Grillby to him again. “I'm yours all night.”

* * *

 

Papyrus stared at his phone for the longest time before letting his arm drop and giving Dr. Gaster a helpless look before handing the phone over. Dr. Gaster took it and read it for himself before sitting back and returning the helpless look to Papyrus.

**taking a rain check for tonight, staying with grillbz. see you tomorrow.**

 


	13. Why Can't Everybody Get Along?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, it's angsty, and it broke my heart writing it. I can only hope it gets better from here.

Sans stretched out as he woke up in an unfamiliar bed, looking around for a moment before his eyelights landed on Grillby, who was sleeping on the other side of the bed. Sans took a moment to remember the situation before blushing softly, leaning back on the pillows.

Last night had been good. It was hot and familiar, like putting on an old favorite sweater he had almost forgotten he had. Hellova way to end his birthday.

He rubbed his eye sockets. Oh, right. Dr. Gaster and Papyrus had gifts to give him at home when he got back. He felt a tiny twinge of regret at having not gone back, but it was HIS birthday, and Grillby was always worth it.

Sans stretched again before leaning over and hugging Grillby from behind. The Fire Monster shifted around before peeking over his shoulder at Sans. “Good morning,” Grillby said before sitting up, holding Sans's hands with his own. “Have a good birthday?”

“Mmm, the best,” Sans replied, nuzzling Grillby's head. “...I really REALLY hate to say I gotta leave, but...”

“Say no more,” Grillby said, smiling. “I'm sure you'd like to spend some time with Papyrus now.” He kissed Sans's hands before sliding out of bed and picking around for something to wear. Sans did the same, tugging on his clothes from last night.

“...it was really great being with you again,” he said earnestly. Grillby smiled, kissing Sans's head.

“I feel the same way,” he replied. “We'll have to do it again sometime, yes?”

“Definitely.” Sans walked out of Grillby's room to get his jacket and phone from the living room, hurriedly checking his messages to return.

To his surprise, he found none.

Sans frowned, his thumb hovering over the contacts button before he sighed, shoving his phone in his pocket. “I dunno when I'll have time off to do this again, but...” He shrugged. “...y'know how it is. But I'll definitely keep in contact!”

“I have no doubt you will,” Grillby replied, heading into the kitchen to get the coffee running. “Say hello to Papyrus for me, alright?”

“Sure thing.” Sans zipped up his jacket, giving his friend a smile. “...see ya soon, Grillbz.”

“See you soon, Sans.”

Sans headed out, tugging his hood up to shield his skull from the cold morning wind as he headed to the bus stop to take him to the parking garage. As soon as he was settled down in a seat, he took his phone from his pocket and contemplated it quietly.

He found it a little weird that even Papyrus wouldn't send a follow-up message, whether it was a 'have fun' or fretting about Sans not being there for gift-giving. Sans DID feel that guilty twinge return, worsening the closer he got to the mansion. He tried NOT to. He was fully entitled to having his own life on his own birthday. He could have his own lovers if he so wanted to.

Sans drove back to the mansion and parked in the garage before heading inside. Everything was quiet, as he expected. Papyrus was at school and Dr. Gaster usually took care of business in the mornings, so he figured he'd do some work until Papyrus came home so he could have a belated get-together.

He grabbed a cup of coffee and headed to his room, pausing when he saw the den room doors open with hushed voices coming from inside. He frowned, walking into the room, pausing when two other Skeletons looked up and ceased conversation.

Papyrus was home from school, looking as unhappy as Sans could remember him being. Dr. Gaster simply looked slightly disappointed, folding his hands in his lap when Sans stepped in. “...hello, Sans,” he said quietly.

Sans flicked his eyelights between the two. “....hey,” he replied. “...Papyrus, shouldn't you be in school?”

“I don't care about that,” Papyrus replied almost petulantly, crossing his arms. “...we need to have a talk.”

“Paps, you can't just skip school, I need—“

“To sit down and TALK,” Papyrus cut in, his voice sharp. Dr. Gaster frowned, settling a hand on Papyrus's shoulder.

“Papyrus, don't upset yourself,” he said quietly. “I let you stay home so you could talk CALMLY, alright?” Papyrus huffed, looking away pointedly as Dr. Gaster turned to Sans. “...please. Let's talk.”

Sans walked in, sitting down across from them. “Look, I don't know why we need a 'talk',” he said. “There's nothing to TALK about. I'm fully entitled to spend my birthday however I wanted, WITH whoever I wanted.”

“And that person wasn't either of US,” Papyrus muttered. “A little more notice WOULD have been good.”

“I TOLD you guys I was spending time with Grillby! No surprises THERE!”

“....in our defense, you told me you were having LUNCH with him,” Dr. Gaster replied. “Not....spending the night with him.”

Sans felt a flare of ire, clenching his hand around his coffee cup. “Oh, don't give me that crap NOW!” he snapped. “Not ANYWHERE in my contract does it say I can only sleep with YOU! I can have my own life as long as I keep to the agreement!”

“Yes, but—“

“Yeah, no. No buts. If YOU wanna go ahead and sleep with my brother too, then I can sleep with whoever the hell I want!”

“HEY!” Papyrus snapped, his eyelights flaring angrily. “Don't throw that back at him like I'm not even here! We talked it out and we AGREED on that!”

“Papyrus, stay out of this—“

“DON'T TREAT ME LIKE A CHILD, SANS, THIS CONCERNS ME TOO!”

“BOYS, PLEASE!” Dr. Gaster nearly shouted, silencing them both. “Papyrus. Please.”

Papyrus scowled, crossing his arms tightly, his eye sockets damp. “...you KNEW we had something planned for you, Sans,” he said, his voice thick with unshed tears. “You KNEW. But you left us waiting, and then just sent a stupid text saying you would rather be with someone else than us. Than ME.” He reached up and rubbed his eye socket. “You have a life, sure, yes, but if WE'RE a part of it, shouldn't WE be in on what's going on? To have something more than a stupid last-minute change?” He let out a shaky sigh before standing. “...I'm going to my room. I need a personal day.”

“...Paps...” Sans said, reaching out only to be stalked past as Papyrus vacated the room quickly. He and Dr. Gaster sat in silence before the distant slam of Papyrus's door echoed through the mansion.

Dr. Gaster rubbed his temples, sighing. “...You both have very fair points,” he said quietly. “But I have one of my own. Sans.” He laced his fingers, leaning forward to rest his mandible on them. “...I did indeed leave the agreement open for you to have a life. But I thought it was....obvious now, that I wish to be informed of it so I can....accommodate. I didn't know about Papyrus, and we both know what a snafu that turned out to be. I want to be sure you're safe.”

Sans scowled, still stinging from the argument and Papyrus's rejection. “Why, so you can fuck him too?” he muttered, immediately wishing he hadn't said anything when Dr. Gaster jerked back as though Sans had taken a swing at him.

“Excuse me?” Dr. Gaster said, offended. “Sans, that has NOTHING to do with this!”

“Then what DOES it have to do with, wanting to know whoever it is I associate with?!” Sans snapped back. “You didn't take too damn long to start fucking my brother when you met him, what's stopping you from going after Grillby, huh?” He set his coffee cup down, crossing his arms. “You have given me NO reason to trust you with anyone in my life, besides taking them to bed.”

Dr. Gaster's hands clenched tightly, his expression darkening. “Before I even TOUCHED Papyrus, I took you and him into my home, gave you everything you two could want, everything you NEEDED, and you want to say you can't trust me for ANYTHING? How DARE you.”

“Oh, how dare ME!?” Sans cried, pressing a hand to his chest. “YOU TONGUE-FUCKED MY LITTLE BROTHER BEHIND MY BACK!”

“We TALKED about this, Sans!”

“Yeah, enough for you to make YOUR thoughts and YOUR desires mean MORE than MINE! NO ONE in their right mind would be one-hundred percent okay with you fucking their younger sibling while you're fucking them!” Sans jumped out of his chair pacing the room. “I'm NOT A HUNDRED PERCENT OKAY WITH THIS! It should be fucking OBVIOUS!”

“Then why didn't you SAY so?”

“HELLO! OB-VI-OUS!” Sans gestured wildly. “WHAT kind of state of mind do you even HAVE, that it isn't OBVIOUS!?”

Dr. Gaster stood up to his own full height, towering over Sans even from the distance between them. “In case it's slipped your OWN notice, Sans, I don't exactly get normal social cues!” His hands clenched by his sides. “I made it clear that I have a mindset, a set of different tastes and whims, that many find completely unorthodox! I EXPLAINED to you, as PLAINLY as POSSIBLE, what my intentions are!

“That is why I put SO much emphasis on TELLING me things, Sans!” His shoulders slumped slightly, the anger draining into tiredness. “To be open and honest, because I won't know otherwise. And I told you, back then....if you had told me that you were completely against my relationship with your brother, then I would stop it. Because my arrangement with YOU comes first.”

Sans scrubbed at his face, his eye sockets leaking silent tears. “...that's all it boils down to, though,” he said, his own anger sifting away. “I'm with Grillby because what we have is REAL. Not something I'm being paid to do. Because when it all boils down....I'm a goddamn prostitute. And I'm not some immature, out-of-touch waif like I know my brother can be sometimes because he's optimistic to a fault. I know this isn't some fairytale story where the destitute little Skeleton is taken in by Prince Charming and given a home and gifts and money and love for free. That's just not how it works, and you and I both know it. I know you're fond of us, but...I'm not stupid to think any of this is REAL.”

Dr. Gaster stood there in silence for a long moment before walking to the table and picking up a wrapped box, holding it in his hands for several long moments before unwrapping it and opening it, taking out a folder Sans recognized as his contract. “...this was your birthday gift, Sans,” Dr. Gaster said quietly. “Papyrus has known about it for awhile now and was just as excited for you to have it as I was.”

He walked over to Sans, opening the cover of the folder to show the papers inside had all been stamped **VOID** in big black letters. Sans stared at it for a moment, his hand twitching up to touch it, before Dr. Gaster threw the whole thing into the fireplace. The doctor stared at it, the light gleaming off of his skull, and made him look decades older.

“...as promised, you keep whatever was given to you over this time,” he said so quietly Sans almost didn't hear him. “Take as much time as you need in leaving. I won't rush you.” He walked past Sans, pausing in the door frame. “...it was a delight having you both.”

He left.

Sans stood in place for what seemed like forever, watching the fire devour his contract until there was nothing but ash. His body became numb and shaky as he dropped to the floor, his hands covering his mouth as he cried to himself, alone in the den, suddenly feeling like he had when he was fired from the labs; without a safety net, without security...

...and this time, there was no one there to catch him.

 

 


	14. Starting Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the heartache y'all endured last chapter, here's some extra-longer goodness!

Everything was a dull, painful blur for what Sans later found out to be three days. When he was finally coherent enough for clear, logical thinking, he found most of his room to be packed away and sitting on his bed with his laptop open to a real estate site searching for apartments.

In the back of his mind, it all seemed perfectly reasonable. He had a good ton of money in his bank account, a car, plenty of personal items to be comfortable with...and this listing on his laptop screen showing a fairly-priced two-bedroom apartment on the Eastern border that wasn't far from Papyrus's school, or Grillby's apartment complex.

It should be simple and easy to call the complex office and put in an application. He had his phone in his hand right now.

But he wasn't calling.

Why? WHY wasn't he just calling?

He was FREE now from that contract; nothing was keeping him here anymore.

So...why wasn't he doing anything?

Sans stared at his phone for the longest time before sighing and shoving it into his pocket. Whatever his reason, he wanted to at least talk to Papyrus about this first. He walked down the hall to his brother's bedroom, knocking softly. “Paps? Can I come in?”

“...it's open.”

Sans walked in, pausing when he saw Papyrus's room almost bare with everything boxed up. “...what's this?” he asked, looking around. Papyrus sighed, folding another shirt and tucking it into a box.

“I'm packing, Sans, what does it look like?” He ran a hand over his skull, looking through what was left critically. “....I don't think another closet will be able to fit my things...”

Sans stepped inside, glancing at the pile of photographs of Sans, Papyrus, and Dr. Gaster on Papyrus's desk. “...you're....just packing...?” he asked, not understanding WHY the concept seemed odd. “......I thought....you'd want to...” He jumped when Papyrus dropped a box on the floor with more force than necessary.

“You thought WHAT, Sans?” he demanded. “That I'd throw a complete hissy fit, proclaim my independence, and show rebellion by staying here?” He shot Sans an insulted look. “...you're my brother, Sans. Of course I'm going with you.” He rubbed his temples, looking tired. Sans frowned, looking around again almost incredulously.

“...Paps...I...” He gestured helplessly. “...I know you're comfortable here.....and that you like Dr. Gaster...”

Papyrus gave Sans a tired look. “...gods, you really don't get it, do you?” he said, shaking his head. “......Sans....do you really think so little of me? Of him? Do you just....really not trust us enough to tell us exactly how you feel?” He sat down on his bed, rubbing his hands together. “....I...might have crossed a line when I went for Dr. Gaster behind your back, even when I didn't know about you two...but I was being totally honest when I said I didn't mind sharing...”

He rubbed his face, sighing. “...I know it was a contracted relationship, Sans...but...you have to be pretty stupid to not see how much he really liked you. It's why I was so excited for your birthday...” He rubbed his arms quietly. “....he didn't want a CONTRACT to be the definition of your relationship....he wanted us to stay here with him, to be with him, without any other reason or motives. And....we honestly thought that's what you wanted.” He sighed. “...and now I just feel really, REALLY stupid not realizing how much you hated it here...how much we hurt you being in a relationship.”

Papyrus looked over at Sans again. “...if you had just said so, Sans....I wouldn't have slept with him. But because you didn't, I honestly thought it could work between all of us, and we could all be happy....like a family...” He rubbed his face before standing up. “...I need to finish packing. Let me know when we're ready to move.”

Sans just quietly nodded, stepping out of the room as Papyrus began mechanically packing again. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment before taking out his phone and calling up the complex office.

* * *

 

Dr. Gaster told Sans that there was no rush, but Sans just couldn't stay in that house for long. He just COULDN'T.

The application went through, the lease was signed, and the moving truck was packed and ready to go. Sans wanted to leave, but he wasn't so tactless that he would just leave without saying goodbye.

The doctor had been entirely scarce since the morning Sans came home, and still seemed to keep his distance as he saw them off. He didn't make eyelight contact and only murmured the occasional departing questions ( _“Did you remember everything you wanted?” “Do you need help loading the truck?”_ ), and even stood off to the side as Sans confirmed the directions to the moving truck driver at the door.

Finally, Sans was completely ready. He heaved a heavy sigh and turned to Papyrus, instead finding his little brother over by Dr. Gaster, murmuring goodbyes with barely-restrained tears. Dr. Gaster gave some words of condolences and a brave smile before Papyrus hugged him tightly.

Dr. Gaster looked almost stricken for a moment before he hugged Papyrus back and then let go, stepping back as a sign that it was time to go. Papyrus, wiped at his eye sockets before walking to the door and past Sans, saying nothing and leaving Sans and Dr. Gaster briefly alone.

Sans clenched his hand around the doorknob, noticing that Dr. Gaster was avoiding eyelight contact again but not turning to leave. He sighed, taking a step inside closer to Dr. Gaster. “...goodbye, Dr. Gaster,” he said quietly.

Dr. Gaster said nothing, only wringing his hands tightly as he still didn't look at Sans. Sans lowered his eyelights, stepping back again and walking out the door, shutting it behind him.

Before the door shut, he most definitely heard a soft “Goodbye, my dear Sans” murmured out behind him.

* * *

 

The apartment was more than Sans could hope for, even his time spent in the mansion considered. It was roomy and open with large windows on one end that opened up to a small balcony and had a nice view of the distant mountains. It was reasonably priced and in a safe location, things that really cinched it for him.

Papyrus barely spoke five words during the move into the apartment, sticking mostly to his room when he wasn't at school. Sans kept a closer eyelight on him and his grades, but to his surprise, Papyrus's schoolwork didn't suffer and Sans didn't get any calls from the school concerning skipped classes.

He took it as a good thing, that Papyrus was adjusting, but just giving Sans the silent treatment. THAT, Sans could deal with. He had every faith that while Papyrus would have his silent tantrum, his little brother would eventually open up and talk things out.

Sans almost wanted to put it into motion NOW; he couldn't help but remember how not talking seemed to lead to this, and several uncomfortable revelations about his brother he could have gone without knowing. But when Papyrus didn't want to talk, it was impossible to get him to open up.

Considering Papyrus seemed to be doing well, Sans focused on himself, mainly in looking for a new job. The money he had saved away wouldn't last forever, and he couldn't stand stagnation as it was. After a LOT of thought and deliberation, he decided to bite a bullet and apply for one of the labs.

It was only fitting he go right back to where he started; this time, however, he opted for a lab in the Southern District where hopefully no one knew him and where any contact with Dr. Gaster would by strictly professional. Only head of the science departments personally met with the owner anyway, so Sans figured being a lowly intern would escape the older Skeleton's notice, or give the hint that he wanted to be left to himself.

Days passed and Sans only had his online classes to busy himself, something that was made tedious once he was caught up on all his work and needed to only wait for the next assignment. Naturally, with his newfound free time, he turned to Grillby.

The sense of mild guilt he had being with Grillby vanished almost before it could start again, and Sans was THAT much happier for it. Being with Grillby was as comfortable as it ever was, providing Sans with a sense of stability and outlet he desperately needed at a time like this. It was also nice having a place for Grillby to visit, without being so damn secretive all the time.

They had been on dates when they both had the time, casual affairs that Sans didn't really need to worry about. Whether it was lunch or a movie or just sitting at either of their places talking over coffee, it was comfortable and nice.

...until Sans was driving home one night realizing he had left Grillby's feeling like something was missing.

He didn't like to mull over things like that. He was happy where he was now. He was getting his own life back together, forming a relationship with Grillby, and preparing to start his career over again.

So why did he feel a drafty space somewhere in his soul?

Sans unlocked his apartment door and put his keys on the counter, hung up his coat, and put on some coffee to get a bit of work done on his paper before bed, taking a moment to peek in on Papyrus.

His little brother was crashed out on his bed, wearing a skirt over leggings and a fuzzy sweater with matching fuzzy socks, what he usually still wore around the house after school. Sans had long since gotten used to the sight and silently commended Papyrus on managing to coordinate socks with sweaters, shifting the duvet over his sleeping brother to tuck him in.

Sans was about to leave when he noticed that Papyrus's hand was rested loosely on top of his cell phone, something Sans found odd. Papyrus always charged it on the nightstand while he slept, and Sans figured he must have been talking to someone before falling asleep right away. His hand twitched as he got an idea as to whom 'that someone' was, and before he could stop himself, he inched the phone gently from under Papyrus's hand and unlocked it, easily knowing that Papyrus's lock-screen pattern was a diamond.

Sans's hand flexed slightly, seeing that Papyrus's phone background was a selfie with Sans and Dr. Gaster in the background during a quiet evening time spent together. He pushed that memory aside, inwardly berating himself for doing this. Papyrus would never snoop like this, he thought as he lowered the volume down to mute to avoid any kind of clicking sounds and deftly swiped over to the picture file.

True to Papyrus's nature, there were specific files for different pictures, the biggest one labeled **M &D**, filled with tons of pictures of selfies and Dr. Gaster. He exited out of that folder and found another one entitled **Docs** which only held pictures of documents Sans recognized as his own former contract, as well as a few other things he didn't bother looking at as he exited that folder too and looked up the call history.

To his surprise, the last call made to or from Dr. Gaster was before they left.

Sans sighed, wondering if he was just being paranoid before he got the idea to check the IM app.

And bingo.

COUNTLESS messages in the IM thread to, Sans shuddered, **Daddy**.

Typical, he thought almost bitterly. Papyrus wouldn't use his computer to communicate with Dr. Gaster; it was much harder to hide message threads there. Much easier to be able to delete a thread entirely on a whim on his phone. Sans rubbed his temple with his free hand as he hesitated for only a moment before opening up the thread.

...and to his surprise, it was just message after message of Papyrus giving Dr. Gaster blow-by-blows of his day, of his feelings, of his well-wishes. Dates on the message organizer had it going back WEEKS. Sans scrolled up and up and up several times over, the conversation completely one-sided, and Sans began having mixed feelings; Papyrus was messaging Dr. Gaster continuously, and there was nothing being sent back. He almost put the phone down when he finally saw one from a couple days ago, going back and tapping on the date to read it from there.

**I got back from the meeting with Mrs. Dunham.**

_What did she have to say?_

**She said that I qualified to take physics next year.**

 

What? Since when did Papyrus take physics?

 

_Oh, that's wonderful news, Papyrus! I knew you could do it!_

**Yeah great.**

_Is something wrong? I thought that's what I was tutoring you for._

**It is, really. But what if I'm too late to start physics in time for college?**

_You won't be, Papyrus. You're very bright and dedicated, and you'll get a scholarship to IT on your own merit._

 

IT? When did Papyrus mention THAT?

 

**Thanks, but I'm totally not smart enough for IT.**

**Maybe after a couple of years of college.**

**I can take some more maths classes.**

_Papyrus, you ARE smart enough for IT. You have a natural affinity for engineering that will put me to shame once you've had proper training for it. If you're having any trouble with your classes, you can always ask your brother, he's incredibly gifted._

**Yeah, THAT will go over well.**

**He'll start asking questions, know I've been talking to you, and then pitch a fit and start all this stuff over again.**

**I don't want that.**

_Give your brother some credit, Papyrus. This isn't a conversation concerning US, it's concerning your schooling._

**It doesn't matter WHAT it concerns, if it's you, he doesn't want to talk about it!**

**He wants to pretend it never happened!**

**I don't WANT that.**

_Papyrus, you know bad it got._

_He needs time, and so do you and I._

_Things were said between us and I overreacted._

_You and I both did._

**Why can't you two just TALK then?**

**I HATE being here, when he doesn't want anything to do with me!**

 

Wait, what?

 

_ Now what makes you think that? _

_You KNOW your brother loves you, Papyrus._

**It's not the same.**

**He never wants to talk to me.**

**He's always working, or going out with Grillby.**

**He doesn't even ASK me about school.**

**He's mad at me and it's not going away.**

_Papyrus, if he's mad at anyone, it's me._

_Please, don't worry yourself sick over this._

_Just talk to him. He loves you and isn't mad at you, I promise._

**Right.**

**Forgive me for sounding like an eight-year-old kid, but do you think you and Sans are ever going to get back together?**

**I miss the house, I miss you, I miss the LIFE all three of us had.**

**I want us to be happy again.**

**Hello?**

**Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow.**

 

Sans stared down at the messages, scrolling down quietly and seeing that Dr. Gaster hadn't replied since.

_**'Do you think you and Sans are ever going to get back together?'** _

If there was ever a more loaded, impossible question, Sans had yet to hear of it.

He threw that point out the window, going back to the messages concerning Papyrus thinking that he didn't want anything to do with him. Is THAT what Papyrus thought? Why Papyrus was staying so quiet and out of the way?

Yes. Yes, granted, Sans had felt angry with Papyrus for his part in all this, but he knew his brother wouldn't do ANYTHING out of spite or to intentionally hurt him. Papyrus was young and invincible with the freedom his age granted him, but it wasn't like Sans never did anything stupid. Because it was VERY smart to sign a sex contract.

But context in these messages signified guilt from the both of them, as well as regret. And there were no more messages after Papyrus had asked THAT question.

Sans turned the phone off and put it back on the bed next to Papyrus, quietly walking out of the room.

He didn't feel like working tonight.

* * *

 

Papyrus slept in, not quite so strange since it was a Saturday, but ten was pretty generous. Papyrus walked out of his room, changed into plain black leggings and a purple sweater Sans recognized as the one Dr. Gaster had picked out, and beelined for the cereal, all in silence.

Yesterday, Sans would have written this off as the continued silent treatment; that set of messages let him know that it was because Papyrus thought Sans wasn't wanting anything to do with him.

Sans couldn't have Papyrus thinking that.

“...Paps.”

Papyrus jumped when Sans spoke to him, almost spilling his milk. He settled the milk jug down, his shoulders tight. “...y...yes, brother?” he replied quietly, not turning around as though dreading what Sans wanted to say.

Sans frowned, not wanting to start the day this way, sitting back. “...Paps, I just wanna talk, alright?” he said placatingly, then added, “I'm not mad. I just wanna talk.”

Papyrus remained motionless for several moments before his shoulders dropped slightly, picking up his cereal and walking over to the table, sitting down across from Sans. He was silent as he ate, and Sans was grateful for the few moments of pause to gather his thoughts.

He waited until Papyrus was finished before sipping his coffee and sighing. “...Papyrus, we've barely spoken since we moved. And I hate it...I hate not talking to you. I want to hear from you, I want to help you with whatever you need.....but I won't know if you don't talk.”

Papyrus gave a one-shouldered shrug, his eyelights averted in the diversionary tactic Sans knew would be tough to crack. But he didn't want Papyrus to be clamming up again. “Papyrus, I know you don't want to...but we need to talk about...what happened.”

“Why?” Papyrus muttered, crossing his arms. “I already feel like a big enough idiot for taking what you said at face value. I already feel dirty enough enjoying myself while you were hating the whole thing.”

Sans rubbed his temples, sighing. “...because we've only take snippets of talks...not an actual TALK.”

“We DID. YOU just lied.”

“Papyrus, I TRIED!” Sans cried, covering his face with his hands. “I TRIED to be okay with it! I TRIED! But I couldn't......it.....” He ground his teeth for a moment. He had to be honest. “....it was better.....before you were there.”

To Papyrus's credit, the younger brother didn't look ENTIRELY too hurt about that. In fact, he looked like he expected it. “...I see,” Papyrus said, lowering his head. “.......even when I thought things were okay......you were happier before I found anything out. I could just....SEE it, Sans. You were happy...you were relaxed....I couldn't see that it was because of Dr. Gaster...not just the money and schooling he was giving you.”

His phalanges clenched into the arms of his sweater. “...I took that away, didn't I?” he said softly. “I took him away from you. Because....you liked him, didn't you? I mean....REALLY liked him.”

Sans's cheekbones warmed behind his hands. It was no use denying THAT fact. He'd had a crush on Dr. Gaster since the moment he met the man, and just BEING with him made him forget all arrangements they had. He always felt like the only other person in the world when Dr. Gaster was with him. “...yeah,” he confessed. “....I did.” He sighed, rubbing at his eye sockets. “...but he didn't feel the same way.”

“...Sans....now you're being the stupid one...” Papyrus folded his arms on the table, leaning his skull on them. “...he was honest when he said he liked us both. You know there ARE people out there capable of loving more than one person equally. But....while he was amazing and generous with me...while he listened to me....YOU were the one he could carry a conversation with.” He sighed. “You really didn't the the way he just lit up when he was with you? When you two were talking science?”

Sans shrugged a little, leaning his head on his hand. “...that's...neither here nor there...” he said.

“Bull,” Papyrus snorted. “It's here, there, and obvious. He was totally smitten with you in ways he never could have been with me, no matter how much I liked him.” He lapsed into silence, and Sans sighed again.

“...Paps.....what made you even.....I mean......what did YOU like about him?” Sans asked. “Other than the shopping sprees and such.”

Papyrus turned his head to the side, staring at the wall. “...it was never the shopping or the money,” he replied. “It was...someone being there to listen.” He sighed. “...Someone who wouldn't be burdened with what I had to say. I have friends, but...no one I could really TALK to about some things...and things I didn't want YOU to know.” His shoulder shifted in a shrug. “...I like wearing cute, pretty things. I like being the center of attention. I have a sordid past that he didn't make me feel ashamed of. And...he was someone who gave me another option rather than what I had been doing.”

His eye sockets teared up slightly. “...he showed me that I was really, really good at engineering, and he's been tutoring me in math and science...he was so excited about college-hunting...we.....we would've all had a trip together to look at them over the s-summer...” His voice hitched wetly, burying his face in his arms. “...I.....I ruined everything, Sans....! I wanted him too, and I ruined EVERYTHING...!”

Sans pressed his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking as he tried to keep himself from crying too. He didn't know what to say, but didn't have time for anything before Papyrus shoved back from the table and hurried to the other side, dropping to his knees next to Sans and hugging his brother's middle.

“I'm so sorry, Sans! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry—!” He cried into Sans's shirt, not stopping his apology not even when Sans hugged around his shoulders and tried to shoosh him. He kept apologizing until he couldn't anymore, when he was cried out and unable to speak.

Sans ignored his own damp face, petting his little brother's skull soothingly, feeling worse and a whole lot better at the same time. “...nothing.......nothing's 'ruined', Paps...” he said quietly. “...it's just.......over, is all. It was no one person's fault....but things...they change, Papyrus.....and not always in the way we want 'em to.” He wiped at his face with his sleeve. “...I have a job interview on Monday...we have a house...you have your school...and....well, I've got Grillby too.....and he makes me happy, so....” He gave a weak shrug. “...It's not a three-story mansion, but...we're doin' okay. Okay?”

Papyrus let out a shaky sigh, hugging Sans tighter. “...okay...” he said quietly. Sans smiled, kissing Papyrus's skull.

“You've gotta be exhausted, Paps,” he said, pushing Papyrus back a little and tracing the darker bone under Papyrus's left eye socket with his thumb. “Go get some more sleep, okay? We can go out for dinner later an' pick up a movie to watch tonight.”

Papyrus nodded, wiping at his face before sitting back and standing up, looking mildly embarrassed about his outburst earlier. “.......alright, Sans,” he said tiredly before turning to go back to his room.

“...Paps.”

Papyrus paused, turning back around. Sans gave his brother a smile, his expression sad and a little pained.

“......don't ever think I'm ever mad enough to not want anything to do with you,” he said softly but firmly. “You're my little brother, and I love you very much. Even when there are things I don't understand or like about you...I'll always love you and I'll always be here. And...I promise from now on I'll be honest. COMPLETELY. Okay?”

Papyrus wiped his eyes, smiling back. “Okay. I love you too, Sans.” He went to his room, and Sans slumped against his chair when the door was shut, feeling like lead weights had been lifted from his bones. He took a few minutes to catch his breath before quietly tidying up the kitchen, pausing when his phone buzzed in his pocket, seeing it was from Grillby.

_Want to go to Pale Nights tonight? I've got free meal tickets for the restaurant._

Pale Nights, one of the ritziest night clubs in the East District. VERY hard for someone of that District to get into as it was.

But still.

**sorry, cant. having dinner and a movie with my bro.**

He sent the message and slipped his phone back into his pocket before finishing his tidy-up. Clubbing would have to wait for some unimportant night.

 


	15. When It All Comes Crashing Down

Sans sat in the lobby of the lab office, trying to quell down his nervousness, and it was quite likely he was failing. He had gotten the call in from the lab director in the South for this interview, and prayed for the job.

He thought being an intern here would be much better than the lab in the Eastern District. It was better funded, for one, and likely the pay would be substantially better.

“Sans Serif?”

Sans let out a held breath as he stood. “Yes, I'm here,” he said. The receptionist smiled, and led him out of the lobby and back to a meeting room where the lab director was seated. The Reptile Monster gave Sans a smile and bade him to sit.

“It's good to see you,” he said, giving Sans a handshake. “I'm Dr. Spinz. Would you like some coffee?”

“I've already had four cups, any more and I'll rattle right off my chair,” Sans replied, relaxing a little when the Monster laughed and sat back.

“Alright, to brass tacks it is,” Dr. Spinz said, opening a folder. “It took awhile to get through to your resume, and I'm honestly mad I didn't find it sooner. Sans, your work is absolutely phenomenal.” He beamed. “Your ideas are original and fresh, and your understanding of the basics is something much-needed around here. I can't TELL you how many of my staff can barely recall high school algebra, let alone beginning physics. Bottom line, I'm impressed, and I'd be a fool to not have you on board.”

Sans stared, unable to comprehend that he'd just gotten a hire in under five minutes. “...a...are you serious...?” he asked faintly. Dr. Spinz nodded.

“Very serious,” he replied. “I mean, recommendations are one thing, but to see this work with my own eyes...color me impressed.” He stood up, extending his hand. “I can't wait to see what you have to offer with us.”

Sans shook the extended hand, feeling happily faint. “Not sure what an intern has to offer, but I'll do my best,” he promised.

Dr. Spinz laughed. “Intern? Oh, spare the thought, Sans, I want you as a lab assistant!”

That time, Sans really DID almost faint, and accepted a styrofoam cup of coffee for a perk-up. A lab assistant. A LAB ASSISTANT. He was salivating more than he was actually drinking at the prospect.

His mini-freakout passed, he sighed a few papers, and headed out the door with Dr. Spinz, hesitating before he left for the lobby. “...hey,” he said tentatively. “...you mentioned that 'recommendation' earlier...what did you mean by that?”

Dr. Spenz adjusted some papers in the file as he walked. “The recommendation from Dr. Gaster,” he replied, not noticing Sans's reaction. “I prefer to see proof of one's skill, rather than relying on someone's word.” He gave Sans a smile and a clap on the shoulder. “I can't wait to see your skills in action, Sans.”

Sans numbly walked out, trying to find some balance between his ecstatic and confused feelings as he made his way to his car to sit and mull.

Dr. Gaster had given a recommendation to the labs.

When?

HOW?

Sans HAD been mentioning it to Papyrus...and Sans wouldn't put it past Papyrus to put that in his little update message to Dr. Gaster.

But would Dr. Gaster really send a personal recommendation to the labs for Sans?

…....oh who was he kidding, of course he would.

It then hit him that HOLY SHIT HE GOT THE JOB.

HE WAS A LAB ASSISTANT.

He was souring on cloud nine as he drove back to his town, parking in front of the bar Grillby worked at. He'd make it up with a couple of drinks and some food for barging in during precious break minutes. Sans walked in just as Grillby was taking off his apron and digging his cell phone out. “Hey, Grillbz!” he said, beaming. Grillby looked up, his expression just as excited. “I have some news!”

“I have some news too!” Grillby gushed, something that made Sans's soul quiver; Grillby working himself up like this was so rare.

“Alright then,” Sans laughed, sitting down. “You first.” Grillby sat across from him, his form flickering brightly.

“Okay, so you know those additions I made to the menu, right?” Oh, Sans did, and they were DIVINE. “So, someone comes in, orders a couple of them, and asks where I went to school. I said I never did, we got to talking about the restaurant business, and get this—that guy? Turns out, he's the owner of Belvair, and he offered me a job at his restaurant!” His form flickered again. “Sans, you and me talked about opportunity, and holy shit, it happened!”

Sans's smile felt frozen. “...Belvair?” he said, his voice weaker than he thought. “...that's......wow, that's all the way in the Capitol...the heck was someone like that doin' HERE?”

“Visiting family for a birth, but ANYWAY, he wants me to start training in two weeks!”

Sans's smile twitched. “...the Capitol is a pretty long commute,” he remarked.

Grillby snorted. “Right, funny,” he said. “I'm moving to the Capitol. Good thing I never had much at the apartment to begin with.” He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Wow....just....wow.” He sat up, smiling. “You said you had news too? What is it?”

Sans wrung his hands slightly. “Oh...I...I got a job at the labs,” he said, trying to sound upbeat and sort of failing. “As a lab assistant.”

“Oh Sans, that's amazing!” Grillby reached out, holding Sans's hands in his own. “See? Things are looking great for the both of us! I'm moving on to the Capitol to work in a four-star restaurant, you're getting great work at the labs, Papyrus is graduating soon...if anyone told us we'd be moving on to better places a year ago, I'd have laughed in their face.” He squeezed Sans's hands. “You'll have to come up to the Capitol sometime. I'll get you a meal, on me.”

“...I'll.....take you up on that...” Sans said, fighting like mad to keep the shaking out of his voice. “I...I should go home and...tell Papyrus the good news.”

“I'm sure he'll be thrilled!” Grillby stood, walking to Sans's side and hugging him. “The only way it could be better was if you got a job at the Capitol lab. You, me, and Papyrus could be roommates. But hey, who knows, right?” He kissed Sans's cheek, standing up straight. “I've gotta talk to Bruno and put in my two week's notice. I'll catch you later and take you out to dinner to celebrate, alright?”

“Alright,” Sans said, standing up too. “See.....see you later, Grillbz.” He made his way out of the bar, feeling as lightheaded as he did if he had downed several drinks and got in the car, driving off.

He didn't drive home.

He didn't drive home.

He didn't drive home.

Or anywhere in particular.

He just drove.

He could only think about his life. His shaky, unstable life. His life that always took one step forward and was wrenched two miles back.

Absently, he thought as it began to grow prematurely dark and cloudy, he started to realize what is was that was missing with Grillby.

Passion.

It was like living in the East; he knew the streets, felt comfort in his work and relationships, but his soul wasn't into it, even if it hurt as he tried to make it work.

Grillby was his friend. His friend with benefits. The benefits were great, but they were comfortable. And they were just benefits. And Grillby was just his friend.

And goddamn it, Sans didn't WANT a friend.

Sans didn't WANT comfortable.

Sans didn't WANT stagnation.

Sans wanted PASSION.

He pulled a U-turn and drove down the road, feeling a pounding in his skull and soul, his hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly his bones creaked. His mind was just static, his only focus being on the road as it began to rain, not wanting to do anything but get to his destination without succumbing to his panic and anxiety.

It was only memory that got him through that back winding road, but everything else just flatlined as the mansion came into view. He braked the car in front of the house, turned it off, and ran out into the rain and up to the door, banging on it with his fist, his soul slamming in tandem in his rib cage.

It felt like both seconds and hours be banged on the door before it opened, and the tall form of Dr. Gaster was suddenly in front of him.

“Sans?” Dr. Gaster breathed, looking down at Sans like a unicorn had appeared out of nowhere. “...Sans, what........what are you doing here? Where's Papyrus? Are you alri—“ He was cut off when Sans launched himself at him and pressed their teeth together, flailing for a moment before curling his arms around Sans to hold him up.

Sans's hands clenched at Dr. Gaster's shirt, tugging at it as he pressed himself closer, his soul pounding enough to rattle his bones. A part of him was screaming bloody murder to STOP THIS, ENOUGH, GO HOME but he smothered it down until he couldn't hear it anymore, only the static in his brain being the only thing he allowed himself to be aware of—

Until he felt himself being pushed back.

NO.

NO MORE.

HE COULDN'T HANDLE THAT, NOT NOW.

His grip tightened in Dr. Gaster's clothes, trying to push closer only to be held away, the panic rising up his spine again. “PLEASE!” he wailed, struggling against Dr. Gaster's firm hold. “PLEASE, DON'T—DON'T DO THIS, NOT NOW, JUST—I NEED—I...I need.....I.....” His legs shook before giving out, only Dr. Gaster's hold keeping him from crashing to the floor.

Dr. Gaster's hands clenched into his shoulders before pulling him inside and shutting the door, sitting him on the floor of the foyer. “...Sans, what happened?” he asked, his voice so full of concern and worry that it broke through the desperation Sans felt and let reality crash into him.

And he wept.

He buried his face in his hands and wept.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Everything hurt until he was numb.

He wept through Dr. Gaster holding him for over an hour, through being scooped up and carried away, and being laid back on a seat and settled against with a blanket in front of the fire.

At last, he stopped crying.

But by then, he had been asleep for an hour.

 


	16. Picking Up the Pieces

Sans shifted as he woke up, his skull pounding with a migraine despite the dimness he had woken up to. He could feel the warmth of a heavy blanket over him and the crackling of a fire nearby, feeling completely cocooned and cozy despite his headache. He didn't want to move from this ball of comfort, he didn't want to do anything except lie here forever...

There was a soft rustling sound that came in and stopped next to him, and Sans heard subtle clinking and rattling close by. He cracked an eye socket open, seeing the blurry form of Dr. Gaster quietly stirring something into a glass of water. Despite Sans's silence, Dr. Gaster looked over, seeing the dim glimmer of blue eyelight and saw that he was awake.

“Here,” Dr. Gaster said softly, taking the glass and holding it out. “Drink this.” He tucked his free hand under Sans's shoulder to sit him up a little. Sans winced when the motion made his head swim, shakily reaching out and taking the glass of water before drinking it, grimacing at the taste. “...what's in this?” he asked.

“A crushed aspirin,” Dr. Gaster said, tipping the glass to Sans's teeth again. “It'll help with the headache.” He kept Sans raised as the glass was drained before putting it down on the table and leaning Sans against the back of the couch.

Sans watched numbly as Dr. Gaster tidied up, starting to piece together his own memories that led up to this and felt a heavy flush of shame blanket over him. He didn't even have the excuse of being drunk or under contract to be here, and yet here he was, swaddled in a blanket in front of a fire in the den, on the couch where he had his first sexual encounter with the man, and being treated to nothing but concern and care.

Twenty-four hours ago, he legitimately thought he had a steady relationship with Grillby. Twelve hours ago, he had driven to this mansion to have desperation sex with Dr. Gaster.

Wow.

If he hadn't felt like shit when Grillby gave his news, he certainly felt like it NOW.

He let out a shaky sigh, going limp against the couch. His headache was ebbing, but it was only leaving his mind clear to remember everything, and with each passing moment, he hated himself more and more.

Sans didn't acknowledge Dr. Gaster when the older Skeleton sat down next to him, more than content to sit in silence for all eternity, if that's what it took to control himself and get a grip on his emotions.

Alas, it was not to be.

“...Sans.”

Sans flinched despite the softness of Dr. Gaster's tone, tightening the blanket around himself, wishing it would swallow him whole. In his peripheral, he saw Dr. Gaster's hands wringing tightly in his lap.

“Sans. What happened?”

That did it.

Without any form of conscious attempt to rein his emotions, he burst into tears. Nowhere near as violently as he had last night, but still enough that he was choking between words as he spilled everything.

His anger.

His guilt.

His desire.

Feeling equal parts jealous and overprotective of Papyrus and Dr. Gaster's relationship.

Secretly wishing he had something REAL with Dr. Gaster.

Hoping for a relationship with Grillby, only for it to be a self-indulgent farce.

Self-loathing toward himself for putting himself in all of those situations.

And yet desiring more out of it.

Sans found himself hiccoughing into Dr. Gaster's sweater by the time he had run out of words, feeling the doctor's arms wrapped tightly around him with a hand petting his skull comfortingly. The gesture calmed him somewhat, but only made him even more aware of the situation and how he came to be there, backtracking feeling better into a horrible, depressing circle.

He went listless against Dr. Gaster, feeling heavy and empty at the same time, not knowing where to go from here. He just wanted to disappear, or at very least go back to sleep so he didn't have to deal with this anymore. He rubbed his face, at a total loss and not knowing where to start.

“...Sans...it's alright.”

Dr. Gaster's voice had Sans glance up, seeing the doctor quietly staring into the fire. His expression was mostly neutral, but with a touch of sadness that was barely reined in. Dr. Gaster sighed heavily, his petting on Sans's head pausing. “...things happen that you don't expect...and you don't want,” he continued. “And you feel like you'd do anything for control. And sometimes...what you do has...consequences.” He glanced down at Sans. “...no one stopped me when I had my grab for control, for my life, or my career. And I suffered for it. But you don't have to do the same, Sans.”

He unfurled his arms from Sans slowly to avoid jostling him. “I wasn't going to take advantage of you, not in that state. What you need is time to heal, and to reevaluate your life and your options. I don't have to be one of those options, Sans.”

Sans remained still, mulling over those words and what they meant, mulling over everything he could remember about the past few hours, and coming to the conclusion of,

“But CAN'T you be an option?”

Dr. Gaster stiffened, looking down at Sans incredulously. “Sans....I don't want you to.....I wasn't saying that—“

“Wingdings,” Sans interrupted, looking him in the eyelights. “I had my heart broken, an' instead of goin' home I came HERE. For th' wrong reasons, yeah, maybe, but still....I came HERE. Because HERE is where I needed to be.” He stared down at his hands. “...You took me in...you let me cry, you took care of me....you're lettin' me talk it out......I wouldn't have gotten this anywhere else, not even home with Paps...” He raised his hands, rubbing his face hard.

“......For the shit I said about all of this......I had safety here.....I had support.....and.....if what that voided-out contract was implyin'......I had a HOME.” He leaned back, turning his head to look at Dr. Gaster again. “.....I'm not askin' you to take me in again. That.....that'd be just the dickest of all moves......I'm just sayin'.....I think I kinda......always KNEW I had all that here.....but my damn logic got in th' way and....” He sighed, staring up at the ceiling for a long lapse of silence.

Finally, he sighed. “....I wanna know, Dr. Gaster....tell me now....when I'm listening.....exactly how you feel. I know you won't lie to me. But after what happened with Grillby....I gotta know....alright?”

Dr. Gaster wrung his hands tightly before forcing them to unclench in his lap. “...I feel how you felt when Grillby told you he was leaving,” he replied evenly. “I felt like everything I thought I knew was a lie...that my soul had been torn out and crushed...that everything was falling apart with no way to fix it” He mirrored Sans's motion of staring up at the ceiling. “I care so, so deeply for you and Papyrus...I just wanted to care for you, shelter you, spoil you, and l...” He hesitated before continuing. “...love you. And I didn't want a contract to be the binding glue of that relationship. I wanted you to just.....be here. To live here, because this was your home too. And...I thought that was what you wanted.”

Sans clenched his hands into the blanket that was still draped around him. “It was,” he replied. “...until the idea that it was just for pretend and for a job kept smacking me in the face.”

Dr. Gaster nodded. “......Quid pro quo, Sans,” he said softly. “...Tell ME how YOU really feel...so that I'll truly KNOW without having to wonder.” Pause. “Please.”

Sans clenched his hands into the blanket again, tugging it tighter around him. “....it was so great that sometimes forgot I was even in a contract....but when I did, I felt dirty for enjoying it.” He nestled into the blanket burrito he was in. “But I felt BETTER. I WAS better. And...things just got complicated when Papyrus came into the picture. I felt.......betrayed? I dunno. Yeah. But....I couldn't say no to Papyrus when he was so happy......and....I knew you'd take care of him.....it didn't....make it better, though.”

He sighed shakily.

"I felt jealous too.  I just...didn't understand when you said you liked us both.  Paps did...and seeing how much better you two got along...it made me feel....cheap."

Sans heard a soft hitch in Dr. Gaster's breath, but the doctor didn't move or say anything.

"...lookin' back now...I just...kinda see the effort you made for the both of us..." He rubbed his face. “...I just...would've felt better about it if it were just me...y'know?”

Dr. Gaster nodded quietly. “...I know,” he said. “...I'm sorry. I...really am, Sans. Never once was it my intention to cause you any pain. Please believe me when I say that.”

“...I do believe you,” Sans replied. “I mean it this time.”

Silence.

“...I am...not entirely sure what I am supposed to actually do now,” Dr. Gaster said tentatively, his hands wringing again. “I know what I WANT to do, but...I don't know what YOU want to do.”

Sans burrowed into his blanket further. “....I kinda want to just sit here until my soul stops hurting,” he admitted. “Dunno how long that's gonna be though.”

Dr. Gaster hesitated before reaching out and resting a hand on Sans's shoulder. “...as I promised before,” he said, “you can stay as long as you need to.”

Sans glanced over, giving the doctor a tiny nod. “...thanks...but that might take forever, and...oh shit, Papyrus, I forgot about—“ He was cut off when a loud BANG resonated through the mansion in the direction of the front door, the sound of rapid heavy footfalls beelining right for the room before Papyrus burst in, letting out a loud wail as he dive-tackled his brother onto the couch.

“SAAAAAAAAAAAANS DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT TO ME AGAIN YOU HAD ME WORRIED SICK YOU COULD'VE JUST TOLD ME YOU NEEDED SOMEONE I WOULD'VE COME HERE WITH YOU YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS IT IS TO DRIVE WHEN YOU'RE UPSET AND YOU DIDN'T CALL ME YOU DIDN'T TEXT ME I WAS SO SCARED AND DON'T DO IT AGAIN SAAAAAAAANS!”

Papyrus burst into tears, burying his face into the blanket and hugging Sans within an inch of his life. Sans couldn't even get his arms free to comfortingly pat Papyrus's head, and Papyrus was half-sprawled over Dr. Gaster from his dive so HE was no help.

Still, sitting there with Dr. Gaster having a lapful of Papyrus and being hugged tightly, Sans felt more at home than he had in a very long time.

 

 


	17. Putting It Back Together

After the initial upstart of Papyrus's arrival and the halfhearted chastising that Sans gave him about skipping school AGAIN, the three sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

Papyrus, exhausted from waiting up for Sans all night, fell asleep with his arms still around Sans's middle, half-lying on the seat as he dozed lightly. Sans busied himself petting Papyrus's head, sparing a few glances at Dr. Gaster as he did so. The doctor was sitting quietly on the other end of the seat, his hand folded quietly in his lap as he apparently couldn't decide what exactly to do.

It hit eleven-thirty in the morning, and Sans's lap was growing slightly numb. “...hey,” he said quietly, getting Dr. Gaster's attention, “can you help me lay him out? I think he'll get a few sore joints if he stays like this.”

Dr. Gaster hesitated before nodding, helping Sans lay Papyrus out on the seat, covering the youngest Skeleton up with the blanket Sans shrugged off before turning to Sans. “I'll make us some coffee,” he said softly, walking out before Sans could reply. Sans glanced between the doorway and Papyrus for a moment before walking after Dr. Gaster, catching up quickly and walking beside him.

“...this...isn't exactly somethin' we can just pretend didn't happen,” he said, mostly to himself. “And...I don't really WANT to forget it either.”

Dr. Gaster nodded quietly, making up some coffee before handing Sans a cup. “...I don't want to forget either,” he replied, fixing his own cup before sitting down, Sans following suit. “...And it would be somewhat counterproductive to not at least talk about where to go from here.”

Sans nodded assent, staring out at the heavily-overcast back courtyard from the window. “You're right,” he said. “...I mean...you an' Papyrus still message each other. And earlier today is proof that if he wanted to be here, he'll be here.”

Dr. Gaster took another thoughtful sip of his coffee. “...but he won't,” he said. “...however....I will admit that....I don't think I could go back to not seeing you both again after this. It would just...be too much.”

Sans nodded quietly. “Yeah,” he replied. “...so...what do you suggest?”

Silence for several moments.

“...I would suggest......starting over,” Dr. Gaster replied. “There is nothing but free will that could keep a relationship going this time...and...I want to see you both again. As friends...more, if you choose, but....I'll offer my friendship before anything else.”

Sans smiled a little, staring into his coffee. “...that sounds...okay,” he said quietly. “...starting...slowly? Maybe building up again to...something. Yeah.”

Dr. Gaster looked like he was barely containing a wide smile, sipping out the rest of his coffee. “...would...dinner once a week suffice for now?”

“...dinner once a week sounds great.”

* * *

 

Even that day, Sans wasn't fool enough to think that 'dinner once a week' would last very long. Right after the first week, the visits became twice a week, and after a long night of watching movies on Friday, Sans and Papyrus stayed the night.

And it became harder to leave.

Dr. Gaster didn't press any issue. He didn't insist on them staying another hour, or even for another night, and would send them off with only good wishes. Sans truly appreciated the casual friendliness, but he still felt old emotions stirring, and it made it harder and harder to go home at the end of the visit.

It especially didn't get easier once Sans had made his peace with Grillby. The Flame Monster was packed and ready to leave for the Capitol, and Sans promised to visit whenever he could. It was.....a relief, finally feeling the bulk of his hurt leaving his soul once he finally let go of the rejection of his emotions. Grillby was still his friend, and one that would always be a part of his life.

He continued to text, call, and message the Flame Monster, and the wound of that relationship cauterized itself into something he barely felt anymore. Grillby's friendship was better than nothing at all.

However, the acceptance of that left an occupation in his soul that seemed to be filling every time we stepped into Dr. Gaster's mansion. It was impossible now, knowing what he knew, to not see the way the doctor looked at him with adoration, tenderness, and—dare he even think—love in his eyelights.

And Sans was starting to feel drawn right back in again.

* * *

 

Sans adjusted his tie for the umpteenth time, checking to make sure he was presentable in his car's visor one last time before Papyrus smacked his hand.

“Brother, you look fine!” the younger Skeleton griped. “Now come on, Dr. Gaster is waiting for us!” He got out of the car, brushing off imaginary lint from his own steel-gray suit and confidently strode up to the mansion, which was full of Monsters and humans alike coming together for a lab fundraiser party.

Sponsors and lab workers alike from all four Districts plus the Capitol were invited, and naturally, Sans and Papyrus had invitations. Sans brought up that some would think it odd that a mere lab assistant would be invited, but Dr. Gaster would have none of it. Sans was one of the finest minds the labs had, and Papyrus had a budding talent for engineering that networking would certainly help with in the long run.

Sans was wearing his Spider Monster silk suit paired with a blue tie this time around, while Papyrus had been given one in gray with a red tie. While Sans did think he looked dashing in his suit, Papyrus was quite fetching in his own. He absently wondered why Papyrud didn't push to wear a nice evening gown, before wondering why he even thought that in the FIRST place.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Sans straightened his spine and walked in with Papyrus, prepared to rub elbows and schmooze as best he could tonight.

* * *

A few hours later, Sans was happy Papyrus had been invited; his little brother was a master of talking up the room, charming all of the sponsors and lab directors alike. Sans stood off to the side with Dr. Gaster, both watching the youngest Skeleton dazzle a sponsor with his wit and flattery, and Sans could see that Dr. Gaster was looking just as proud and pleased as Sans felt.

Sans did a bit of charming himself, sticking by Dr. Spinz to talk up the physics department and was not sorry at all when his old boss from the Eastern District lab looked lemon-faced the whole time. _Good_ , he thought as the Eastern Lab director left early, sipping his drink. His loss.

The party dwindled down little by little, and Sans stretched out his joints as he looked around for Papyrus. It was Saturday, but he didn't really want to spend the night here again; as much as he was beginning to get used to the 'sleepovers', he didn't want to dig himself deeper into the hole of comfort his shovel was already starting. He waved goodbye to Dr. Spinz and headed off to look for Papyrus, frowning when he realized he didn't see (or hear) his little brother anywhere.

Come to think of it, Dr. Gaster was absent as well.

Sans immediately threw the first-reaction thoughts out of his head. No. No, they wouldn't do that to him. They cared about him too much to do that again. They respected the boundaries they had in place now.

He kept those thoughts in mantra as he explored around away from the bulk of the party, almost going upstairs to—as a precaution—search the bedrooms when he noticed the terrace door was open, cooling the hall as the breeze drifted in. Sans edged for the door, keeping himself out of sighed as he peered out and saw the other two Skeletons standing out on the deck talking.

“...made a fine impression on them,” Gaster was saying, his voice full of pride. “Especially Dr. Alphys. She seemed especially impressed with your engineering ideas.”

Sans saw Papyrus rub the back of his skull shyly. “Well, I wouldn't say I DAZZLED them,” he replied self-deprecatingly, “but I at least hope I made enough of an impression that they keep me in mind someday.” He sighed, leaning against the deck railing. “Still, summer's going to be here soon, and I haven't even BEGUN to see which colleges I'll be going to.”

Dr. Gaster stepped up next to him, mirroring Papyrus's leaning. “Well, we could always dust off that college road trip idea,” he offered. “I'm sure Sans would like the bonding experience, and I can get us fantastic deals on train tickets.” He paused, and Sans could see his expression look slightly troubled in the moonlight as he looked at Papyrus. “...what's wrong?”

Papyrus reached up and rubbed his nasal ridge quietly. “...that won't be happening,” he replied so softly that Sans almost didn't hear it. “Sans won't go for it.”

“What makes you think so?”

Papyrus sighed. “Doctor....I know......we've come to a sort of agreement around here...” he said tentatively, “...but...other than that, we still haven't addressed the big elephant in the room about.......us.”

Dr. Gaster went quiet for a moment. “...oh,” he said. “...I see.” Sans frowned, seeing Dr. Gaster put a tiny bit of distance between himself and Papyrus. “...Papyrus....you know that I care very much for you...but...”

“I know.” Papyrus's shoulders fell tiredly. “But....” His voice tilted toward the hopeful, his hand lifting and reaching over to lay over Dr. Gaster's. “...if...if we talk it over with Sans then....maybe....we can...” He trailed off when Dr. Gaster stood straight and gently pulled his hand away.

“...Papyrus......nothing would make me happier being with you and Sans again...” he replied quietly. “...but I will not choose one over the other, nor will I press the issue.” He took a step away from Papyrus. “I am....content with Sans's friendship.....and yours. And I VALUE that friendship, and I'm so glad to have you both back in my life. I...do not want to ruin that, I don't even want to make CHANCE of ruining it.” He took another step away. “...go and find Sans, Papyrus. It's getting late.”

Papyrus's shoulders hunched slightly. “...I'll....go in a bit...” he said. “...I just want to stay out here for a bit more.”

Sans headed back into the house before Dr. Gaster could could spot him, barely thinking about where he was walking until he found himself in the den. He walked over to the seat and sat himself down, staring at the smoldering embers in the fireplace as he thought.

And felt.

And wished he hadn't been privy to that conversation, to Papyrus's desire of a 'family' of the three of them, of Dr. Gaster not even bringing himself to touch Papyrus in even an innocent way.

He honestly didn't even suggest that his brother and Dr. Gaster couldn't even have a friendship where gentle, innocent touches were forbidden He heard the barely-restrained pain and hope in Papyrus's voice, the wistful desire in Dr. Gaster's...

But he also sensed the conviction that they put on themselves so as to not hurt him again.

Sans sighed, shifting to lie on his side on the seat. He hadn't meant to trade his pain for theirs, only to meet in the middle somehow. But if only one side was hurting, there was no middle.

He glanced back when he heard Papyrus approaching and softly calling for him, pausing to think for a moment before shrugging off his jacket and covering himself with it, making himself comfortable, and closing his eye sockets.

The ruse worked.

Papyrus found him, then left to get Dr. Gaster, who softly replied that he'd end the party and give Papyrus a room to stay the night in.

Soon after, Sans really did fall fast asleep.

* * *

Sans rubbed his eye sockets, blinking back bleariness as his reflexively checked the time on the grandfather clock across the room, showing that it was nearly three-thirty in the morning. He didn't know what had woken him, but seeing the fire in the fireplace stoked and warming the room and feeling a soft, heavy blanket over him gave him a few ideas.

He sighed, lying back down to sleep and starting slightly when he heard shifting on the floor next to the seat. He looked down, his eyelights softening when he saw Papyrus lying on a blanket pallet close by, fast asleep.

Sans smiled, unfurling an arm from his blanket to reach down and pet his brother's skull before curling back up and settling back down to sleep.

 

 


	18. Fudge Is the Solution To Everything

This time, Sans swore to himself, he was going to give this an honest-to-gods go.

He didn't outright proclaim that to the other two; he didn't want to give everyone false hope in case things didn't exactly work out. But he wanted to give HIMSELF hope that he could make it happen, to some degree.

And he started out by asking Dr. Gaster if he was free for dinner Saturday night.

…...in hindsight, maybe it was best he didn't ask in the middle of breakfast with Dr. Gaster and his brother both in attendance, out of nowhere, and while Papyrus was drinking milk. That poor tablecloth.

He almost wished he hadn't said anything, and then he saw Dr. Gaster BLUSH. That alone made the possible rejection worth asking in the first place.

“I...don't know what to say...” Dr. Gaster said, rubbing the back of his skull. Papyrus quickly wiped his mandible dry and put his glass down.

“You could say YES!” he encouraged, his eyelights glimmering, looking hardly able to contain himself. Dr. Gaster's blush deepened as he neatly folded his napkin and took a deliberately long sip of coffee to calm himself down.

“I...suppose I could,” he answered, giving Sans a smile. “...I would love to, Sans.”

Papyrus's subsequent squeal of joy nearly shattered the milk pitcher.

* * *

 

Sans knew that getting back into the swing of things with Dr. Gaster would be a bit awkward, especially with the dates. For one, he wasn't contractually obligated to do so, and that alone made it feel different. It was also the fact that he was now consciously aware that he was shooting for something REAL now, and therefor feared screwing up.

Dr. Gaster did his best to assuage those fears, always being encouraging and cheerful and not trying to speed up or slow down anything beyond the terms Sans had going. Slowly, Sans began to settle into things enough to truly enjoy himself without worrying about contracts or obligations or scandals. He was just a Skeleton out with his...

…....his......

…..huh.

What WERE they, anyway? 'Boyfriend' wasn't exactly a term that fit someone as regal-imaged as Dr. Gaster, but from the way things were going, that seemed to be the case. Sans also didn't want to preemptively impose something like that, still stinging from the mistake he'd made with Grillby, but it was perfectly clear that Dr. Gaster would be happy with anything Sans called him, or wanted them to be.

And it was silly to think that they were 'just friends' whilst sitting hand-in-hand at a table in an intimate-atmosphered restaurant, or when Dr. Gaster kept that hold on Sans's hand the ride back to the younger's apartment, or when, despite so long an admirable restraint, Dr. Gaster leaned in and kissed him goodnight.

A five-minutes kiss later, Sans figured, yeah.

Boyfriend worked.

* * *

It wasn't just Dr. Gaster's house Sans and Papyrus went to; many times, Dr. Gaster paid a visit to their apartment for coffee, talks, or a casual group dinner. Papyrus was mostly thrilled about that last bit, wanting more than just himself and Sans to cook for, and it became even more frequent soon after Sans and Dr. Gaster reestablished a relationship.

It was more difficult this time around, having an actual relationship. Things like conflicting work schedules made visits a bit dicier to work out, and working as a lab assistant was more challenging and time-consuming than Sans had expected.

This time, however, he could afford to take a personal day, which was what he needed right now. Sans considered himself a Monster of high life tolerance, but he DID have points where everything built up so much that his shoulders couldn't handle the strain anymore and he needed time to collapse for awhile.

Today was such a day. General stress he'd neglected to blow off, extra work hours, and two canceled dates with Dr. Gaster called in for a personal day that he desperately needed.

Sans laid back on the couch listlessly as he flipped through channels on the TV, feeling as though he should be at least doing something semi-productive, but he couldn't find the will to do ANYTHING. He knew that if he didn't do at least SOMETHING, he'd feel guilty about wasting a day without blowing off any stress and only letting his issues sit and stagnate instead of leaving.

Ugh. He needed a two-week vacation, a drink, and an orgasm right now, he thought as he clicked off the TV and stared up at the ceiling. Some of that gourmet fudge Dr. Gaster had at the mansion wouldn't hurt either.

He threw an arm over his eye sockets, debating rolling off of the couch to nap on the floor for a change up pace when there was a soft knock on the front door.

Sans sat up, wondering what that could be for. He wasn't expecting company or packages that needed signing, and he had already paid the rent last week. He padded over to the door and cracked it open, his eyelights constricting when he saw none other than Dr. Gaster on the other side.

“Dr. Gaster,” he began, confused. “What're you doing here? I'm supposed to be at work.” Oh THAT sounded non-suspicious and intelligent, he griped to himself.

Dr. Gaster smiled, unperturbed. “I got a text from Papyrus,” he replied quietly. “He said you're feeling down today...so I came by to see if you were doing alright.” He held up a cup of coffee from Sans's favorite cafe and a box of fudge in offering.

Sans felt his cheekbones heat blue as he stepped aside and let Dr. Gaster in, taking the offered coffee and sipping it, feeling a smidge better at the taste. “...thanks,” he replied, still blushing. “I mean...you didn't hafta...”

Dr. Gaster laughed, kissing the top of Sans's skull. “Of course I did,” he replied. “What sort of boyfriend would I be, not making my beau feel better on a bad day?”

Stars and gods above, if Sans didn't know that Dr. Gaster was naturally verbally poetic in the sincerest of ways, he'd think he was being played like a fiddle. But Dr. Gaster never played like that.

Sans smiled weakly, leaning against the taller Skeleton. “...you do pretty swell,” he said. “...thanks, 'Dings.”

Dr. Gaster curled his arm around Sans, pressing a kiss to the top of the smaller Skeleton's skull as he sat them both down on the couch and flipped through channels as Sans sipped his coffee in content silence.

Sans finished off his coffee and reached for the box of fudge, only to have Gaster get to it first, the taller Skeleton plucking out a square and holding it up to Sans's teeth, smiling. Sans blushed, parting his jaws and biting into it, almost moaning with delight at the realization that it wasn't just fudge, it was the same foodgasmic super-fudge he had sampled the day he first became intimate with Dr. Gaster.

He had a passing thought of it being a deliberate choice for the doctor to make, but Sans had sampled many a fudge flavors in the mansion, and this kind—though his obvious favorite—was a coincidence. A very HAPPY coincidence, he thought as he took another bite to finish off that square before parting his jaws for another.

Dr. Gaster smiled, giving Sans what he asked for. “Feeling better now?” he inquired after the fourth fudge square. Sans nodded, his cheekbones dark blue with embarrassment that his delight over his guilty pleasure was so obvious, and that it was bringing back pretty good memories to go along with it. Dr. Gaster smiled, kissing Sans's blue cheekbone. “Then I'm glad.”

Sans's skull was almost completely blue, so full of fuzzy feelings and giddiness—and fudge—that he felt nearly ready to explode if he didn't do something about it. He didn't allow himself a moment to think about the repercussions at what he had in mind before turning his head and kissing Dr. Gaster.

The doctor seemed a bit surprised at that route Sans seemed to be taking, and Sans didn't even give him an inch to pull back, reaching up and cupping the back of Dr. Gaster's skull to keep him close as he conjured a tongue and swiped it over Dr. Gaster's teeth. He was granted entrance and a tongue greeted his own immediately, arms circling around his smaller body to pull him closer.

“You're very......eager today....” Dr. Gaster remarked between kisses. “...I hope you don't....I mean.....you don't have to—“ He cut off when Sans let his body drop backwards onto the couch, bringing the doctor with him.

“After all this crap, you really think I would do somethin' I don't wanna do?” Sans retorted, nipping at Dr. Gaster's jaw. “Th' REAL question is, do YOU?”

That gorgeous gleam in Dr. Gaster's eyelights was all the warning Sans got before Sans was reacquainted with the devilish beast that was Dr. Gaster.

* * *

"....do you think we should move?"

"From th' couch, or just in general?  'Cause I'll really miss that mansion."

"Seriously, Sans, Papyrus will be home any minute."

"He's got basketball practice, 'Dings, he won't be home for another—“

The front door burst open and Papyrus ran in, looking like he had just run all the way from the school, which shouldn't have been possible, considering he took the bus now with the extra distance to go.  "Sans, I know you weren't feeling well today so I caught an earlier bus to run into town and get you some _OH MY GOD_!"

What was in Papyrus's hold went airborne as his hands flew to his eye sockets and he performed a textbook about-face to sprint right back out the door and slam it shut.  "I AM SO SORRY!" he wailed from the other side before letting out a pained groan.  "SERIOUSLY THOUGH, SANS, I SIT ON THAT COUCH!"

Sans covered his dark blue face with his hands, his internal screaming resonating through his skull as Dr. Gaster fell off the couch reaching for his pants.

Later in the evening when he was thinking more clearly, he blamed the fudge for everything.

 

 


	19. Sharing Is Caring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little bit of a longer chapter for y'all!

Predictably, Papyrus had a bit of trouble looking Sans in the eyelight after that incident. Sans couldn't blame him. It was embarrassing enough as it was without both he and Dr. Gaster being naked, or Dr. Gaster having to choose between staying for a spell after redressing himself or doing the walk of shame out the door.

It wasn't much of a choice later, when Sans went to tell Papyrus everything was decent again, and his little brother was gone. He got a text a few minutes later from Papyrus, telling him that he'd gone ahead back to school for practice, but he couldn't help but feel more than a little....ashamed.

He didn't know WHY, exactly; after all, Papyrus had all but shoved him and Dr. Gaster together like a kid playing house with dolls. But then he couldn't help but think of WHY he had decided to take the plunge and ask the doctor out.

Since he and Dr. Gaster started dating again, Papyrus had been seeing more of the doctor, even if it was more of a casual setting. While it was more than obvious that Papyrus still harbored deep feelings for Dr. Gaster, he seemed to be almost content in having at least where they could see each other. Even during the grace period after Sans had his meltdown, Papyrus hadn't once taken it upon himself to go to Dr. Gaster's home alone, let alone in a room together alone.

Sans didn't want that borderline-phobic fear of closeness to fester anymore between the two more important people in his life. Whether he liked it, approved of it, or tolerated it or not, Papyrus and Dr. Gaster now had history between them, and it wasn't a passing thing for either. It was something they had both wanted, and had both cared about, and had both ended when it became clear that they had hurt Sans.

Sans had seen Papyrus grow up in the blink of an eye since it all began, in different ways. He had accepted the fact that Papyrus was old enough to make his own decisions, and had watched Papyrus learn the consequences of what those decisions could bring. As shrewd and calculating as his brother could be though, Papyrus was at heart a soft and caring person who wanted to be taken care of, but not at the expense of someone else's happiness.

But now Sans was right back in the circle of things, just on the other side of it. He had a relationship with Dr. Gaster while his brother was sitting on the sidelines, cheering him on but still wanting to be a part of the team. The trio was—in a way—reunited, but now Papyrus was just the little brother who came for visits and stayed at home while the big brother and the boyfriend were out on a date. It was the furthest thing from the past relationship Papyrus and Dr. Gaster had while still being involved in some way in it.

For the past couple of months, Papyrus had not once been in a car, a room, or on an outing with Dr. Gaster alone.

Sans mulled it over as he observed his brother and Dr. Gaster closely, seeing that Dr. Gaster was obviously delighted to see Papyrus whenever he could, but always seemed to deliberately....well, Sans wouldn't say IGNORE, but it was pretty close to the mark. The doctor's adoration and attention to Sans was not forced or falsified, but it WAS incredibly careful and deliberate.

Likewise, Papyrus never bothered Sans about coming along when Sans was going to the mansion, and always seemed to be restraining himself from hugging Dr. Gaster whenever they saw each other. Sans was also shamed to admit it, but he had looked in on Papyrus's phone again; not suspiciously, but to just see what his brother refused to tell.

He did see that Papyrus's contact name for Dr. Gaster was still 'Daddy', and that Papyrus did still message him about some things, but it was very much like after the message when Papyrus asked if Dr. Gaster and Sans were ever getting back together; one-sided. Dr. Gaster's responses were only fleshed out when it came to things like schoolwork but once it started getting personal...the replies would stop.

In literally any other circumstance, Sans would take this as a means of complete loyalty from Dr. Gaster, and be happy for that fact. But in this way, Dr. Gaster was hardly even allowing a friendship between himself and Papyrus when Sans wasn't a part of the conversation.

And that wasn't what Sans wanted.

Before Papyrus had that brief relationship with Dr. Gaster, Sans could see that they had a close friendship. Papyrus had found a best friend, someone whom he could tell things he wouldn't DARE tell Sans, and was given support and advice and care in ways Sans couldn't provide. It was only natural that Papyrus would fall for his best friend.

….Just like Sans had with Grillby.

Only in this case, Dr. Gaster reciprocated his feelings for Papyrus.

Well, shit.

Sans went through the usual thoughts at that realization, going through the expected 'he's dating me to get to Papyrus' and 'it's not me he really wants', but those weren't at all right. As he could in the past, Sans felt the sincerity shining from Dr. Gaster's soul, and knew that he was adored and cared for in every sense of the word. But there was a piece missing that Sans couldn't fit into. Dr. Gaster cared for Papyrus too, in ways that were separate and unique from Sans, and it wasn't something to just get over and forget about.

Sans looked back and saw the real connection his brother and Dr. Gaster had, just like he too had a real connection with the doctor. There were different outlets that both brothers fit, and Dr. Gaster provided something unique for the both of them. While Sans like the occasional gift, Dr. Gaster liked to spoil someone. Contrarywise, while Papyrus was more of a pop-culture fanatic, Dr. Gaster preferred contemporary and scientific conversations and interests.

Dr. Gaster was a provider, first and foremost, but he had opposing roles he wanted to fill that just one or the other couldn't adhere to. It had been serendipitous for Sans AND Papyrus to be in the picture at the same time.

In a way, Sans was glad he and Papyrus took the break away from Dr. Gaster. It gave him time to see everything from another perspective, gave Papyrus time to grow and learn, and give him the opportunity to see that to a degree...what they all had worked.

Sans took a break from contemplating everything whilst staring at the ceiling, and looked at the calendar that hung on the fridge with a big red circle around the date in two days.

Papyrus's birthday.

His little brother was going to be nineteen, graduating in a couple more months, even; and by conversations he'd overheard, going away to an IT possibly halfway across the country, depending on preference. Sans didn't want that leaving to be bitter or sad in any way, shape, or form.

Sans nodded to himself, sitting up and fishing his phone out of his pocket. He had some planning to do.

* * *

 

“What do you mean, you have to work today?”

Sans almost broke seeing the kicked-puppy expression on his brother's face, but he held fast, giving Papyrus an apologetic smile. “Look, it's a really big project at th' lab right now, an' they need me for th' day,” he said. “It's not ALL day, I should be let go around four, and then we can have a big birthday dinner, all of us.” He gave his brother's shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Papyrus looked like he was reigning in the pout of the century; he was nineteen, not a baby bones anymore, but birthdays were special days for him and his brother. Even on years when Christmas was barely an option, birthdays were ALWAYS in the cards. “...alright,” he said quietly. “...it's just going to be pretty boring, waiting for four-o-clock to roll by.”

Sans grinned, glancing at the door when it was knocked on, loving the perfect timing. “Ah, don't worry about THAT,” he said, going to answer it. “You won't be TOO bored, I hope.” He opened it, standing aside for Dr. Gaster to step inside.

Dr. Gaster smiled at Sans before turning to Papyrus, his smile turning a little nervous, albeit very happy as he held up a small wrapped parcel. “Happy birthday, Papyrus,” he said, offering it up to the youngest Skeleton. Papyrus shook off a momentary surprise before grinning and taking the gift, hesitating only for a moment before giving Dr. Gaster a one-armed—and very tight—hug.

“Thank you!” he chirped before letting go. “You, um....you didn't have to...”

“Nonsense,” Dr. Gaster shortly cut in. “It's your birthday, Papyrus, I'd feel lower than dirt if I didn't give you something special. You deserve it.”

Papyrus blushed, turning the small gift over in his hands. “...well...thank you again,” he replied shyly. “...and...well, sorry you had to drive all the way here for nothing...Sans has to work until four, and we're not doing anything until then...”

Dr. Gaster glanced over at Sans. “...you didn't tell him?” he asked. Sans shrugged a little.

“You kinda showed up before I could,” he said, smiling at Papyrus. “I hafta work today, but like hell I'm gonna let my brother be alone on his birthday. 'Dings is gonna take you out for your birthday, anywhere you wanna go, anything you wanna do.”

Papyrus's eyelights glimmered incredulously, looking hardly able to contain himself. “Really?” he squeaked, barely above a whisper. Sans nodded and Papyrus beamed, scooping his his smaller brother to hug him tightly. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!”

Sans patted Papyrus's back. “Glad you're excited,” he managed to choke out before he was let go. “You guys have fun, alright? We'll meet back here around five an' head out to go do somethin'.”

“Of course,” Dr. Gaster said before beaming at Papyrus. “Aren't you going to open your gift?” he asked. Papyrus nodded and pulled off the wrapper to show a small box, opening it up and reaching inside to pull out a key on a silver and pink MTT keychain.

“...what's this?” he asked. Dr. Gaster stepped back to the door and opened it, urging Papyrus to step outside and stare for several moments before letting out a shrill shriek and bolting down the stairs to the parking lot.

Sans watched Papyrus go, snorting. “...you didn't,” he said, knowing that Dr. Gaster HAD. Dr. Gaster shrugged unapologetically as he watched Papyrus nearly sob over his new red convertible.

“He's going to college next year,” the doctor stated. “He need a ride.”

Sans grinned. “Can't argue with you there,” he said, taking a wise step back as Papyrus bolted back up the stairs and dive-hugged Dr. Gaster tightly.

“OMIGOD-I-CAN'T-THANK-YOU-ENOUGH-FOR-THIS-IT'S-AMAZING-I-LOVE-IT-THANK-YOU-THANK-YOU-THANK-YOU!” he wailed in one breath. Dr. Gaster hugged him back, smiling tenderly.

“Only the best for your birthday,” he replied fondly. “Are you ready to head out?”

Papyrus nodded, wiping his wet eye sockets dry before stepping back and hugging Sans again. “This is the best birthday ever!” he exclaimed before hurrying off to grab a jacket. Sans smiled after him before turning to Dr. Gaster.

“Thanks so much for this,” he said. “...I don't think you have any idea how much he misses ya.” He didn't elaborate further, pretending not to see the puzzled look on Dr. Gaster's face as he grabbed his own car keys and jacket. “I gotta head to work. You two have fun, alright?” He leaned up and gave Dr. Gaster a kiss before heading out, barely aware he was holding his breath until he was inside his car.

He'd basically given permission for his brother and his boyfriend to practically go on a date today.

And strangely enough, the world wasn't ending.

He took a moment to glance back at the corner to see Dr. Gaster and Papyrus heading for the convertible, Papyrus clinging to Dr. Gaster's arm and beaming brighter than the sun as Dr. Gaster looked as though it was HIM having the birthday today.

It was halfway to the labs before Sans realized that he was smiling the whole time.

* * *

 

Sans hadn't really had the chance to check his phone all day. When he got in the car, he checked for voicemails or missed calls and found neither, only several picture texts that could wait until later. He wanted to get home as soon as possible so he could shower, change, and head out with Papyrus and Dr. Gaster for a birthday dinner.

He hummed to himself as he drove, mentally going over what to say about having Dr. Gaster and Papyrus spend more time together without needing his permission, but still keeping that door of honest communication open in case it was more than time the others wanted together.

It was so strange, he thought as he pulled into the parking lot; thinking it over, letting a few details settle, and looking over the options...he found that the idea of sharing didn't faze him all that much anymore. It would have been different if Dr. Gaster had just been looking for extra side flings and if Papyrus was having a self-destructive rebellious stage, but the other two Skeletons obviously had real feelings for one another, somewhere between platonic and romantic, where Sans himself was, and understood.

But, he thought to himself, he'd just see where this went.

Sans walked into his apartment, stopping short when he saw Papyrus sitting on the couch alone. He looked back for a moment, confused since he didn't see Papyrus's new car in the parking lot, before turning back to his brother, shutting the door. “Hey, Paps...” he said, putting his things down. “Didn't expect you back so soon. Is...'Dings out getting' somethin'?”

Papyrus shook his head, not looking up from the floor, his hands wringing tightly in his lap. Alarms blared in Sans's mind; something wasn't right. He hurried over to the couch, sitting next to Papyrus. “Paps, what's wrong?” he asked, getting a little frightened. “What...I mean, did something happen...?”

A violent hitch of breath shook Papyrus's frame, the younger brother's hands clenching so tightly his bones began to grate. “....I.....” he began, his voice tight from holding back tears. “...w...we.......Sans....!” His eye sockets welled up quickly, unclenching his hands to bury his face into them. “Oh GODS, Sans, I'm so sorry...!”

Sans held Papyrus's shoulder tightly, his bones shaking slightly. “Papyrus, just tell me what happened!” he cried. “Are you alright? Is Wingdings alright? Was there an accident, or—“

“I didn't MEAN to, Sans!” Papyrus wailed, sobbing harder. “I...we were just.....having so much FUN, and.......and I......!” He wiped at his eye sockets fruitlessly. “I'm so SORRY—!”

“PAPYRUS.” Sans took his little brother's hands tightly, squeezing them until Papyrus looked up. “Papyrus. Calm down. Okay? Just....” He let out a breath. “...Just tell me you an' Wingdings are alright.” He waited until Papyrus gave a tiny nod, letting his shoulders drop with relief. “Okay,” he said. “Now. Tell me what happened. CALMLY.”

Papyrus took a few moments to settle himself before sniffling. “.......I.....we were finishing lunch....” he stammered, his voice shaking. “....we had...just finished shopping....and we were talking....and laughing.....a....and....and I....” He clenched his eye socket shut. “...I kissed him.”

Sans would have shaken some sense into his brother for making him WORRY like that in the worst-case scenario, but he took a moment to compose himself and remind himself that this is what he had wanted to discuss with Papyrus and Dr. Gaster this evening over dinner. This was...simply a hitch in the plan, was all. It was still a go.

This was still salvageable.

He let out a sigh and stood up, tugging on Papyrus's arm to make him stand up too, and walked his brother to the door, grabbing his keys and heading down to the car.

“...where are we going?” Papyrus asked meekly. Sans gave Papyrus's hand a squeeze before letting to get in the car.

“Just get in, Paps, alright?”

The drive was dead silent and somber, and Sans absolutely HATED it, but he didn't know how to start this conversation or make Papyrus feel better without some sort of context as to why Sans wasn't completely flipping shit over his brother and boyfriend kissing.

So he decided to take the more direct route.

Papyrus became visibly anxious once it was clear Sans was driving them do Dr. Gaster's, but he still said nothing. Sans calmly parked in front of the house and got out, beckoning Papyrus to follow him up to the door. Just as a gesture that Papyrus wasn't in trouble, Sans held his brother's hand tightly as he let himself in.

By this point, Sans knew that if Dr. Gaster was stressed, distressed, or just in need of thought-straightening time, he'd be in the study. That's where Sans found him, lying back on the seat with an arm over his face and looking just as morose as Sans had found Papyrus earlier.

Sans walked in, alerting the older Skeleton to their presence, and held up a hand before Dr. Gaster could say anything. “I heard it from Papyrus,” he stated. “And this is not how I wanted this day to go. I wanted Papyrus to be happy...and I wanted you to be happy. I wanted you BOTH...to be happy.”

He reached out and took one of Dr. Gaster's hands with his own free one, squeezing both hands within his own tightly. “...you two are the most important people in my life,” he said. “...and I know that you both feel the same way about me and each other. And I can't take it if one is unhappy...let alone both.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “...what I'm tryin' to say....what I wanted to discuss tonight at dinner, between the three of us....is that I want us...all to be happy. It's not fair for you two to be unhappy for my sake...and right now, nothin' makes me happier than when you two are happy too.” He glanced between them, seeing all the puzzle pieces there, but not quite being put together.

Going for gold it was, then.

Sans let go of their hands and gave Papyrus a non-too-gentle push to Dr. Gaster, just enough for the younger brother to stumble and the doctor to catch him. “What I'm tryin' to say is, kiss an' make up so we can get on with Papyrus's birthday.”

The other two Skeletons stared with slack jaws at Sans for several long moments before looking at each other and simultaneously bursting into crying laughter, hugging each other tightly and nuzzling their skulls together.

They didn't kiss, but Sans had never seen them happier and closer. And when they pulled him in to join the hug, he thought, neither did he.

 


	20. Family

 

Things were taken slower now, with more consideration and communication, and for Sans, it made all the difference in the world.

Sans honestly didn't know what to expect when he allowed a relationship to flourish between Papyrus and Dr. Gaster, but he found that his gamble was paid back in respectfulness from both, as well as all the more happiness.

It had still taken some time for Papyrus and Dr. Gaster to show some modicum of intimacy when in Sans's presence. When Sans was in the same room, there was always a few more inches of distance between them, a half-raised hand that would have held the other's, a pause when leaning in for a goodbye hug or kiss with only a tight, apologetic smile to each other to fill in the gap.

It wasn't active avoidance of each other anymore, and Sans was patient with them, despite having to pause and give eyelight-contact consent to almost everything they wanted to do in his presence. It was the double-edged sword to acknowledging a hurt done to him, not wanting to inadvertently do it again.

Though, Sans figured that their paranoia would be punishment enough for any inadvertent action, but he digressed.

He was patient, and he began to see hands being held, Papyrus's head lean on Dr. Gaster's shoulder, a call or text from either telling him that Dr. Gaster was picking Papyrus up from school (Sans put his foot down on Papyrus taking the convertible to his school; it was still the East District, and grand theft auto WAS a major problem).

Something else he thought helped was that he and Papyrus lived separately from Dr. Gaster. The brothers still resided in the apartment, giving everyone space to breathe and keep to themselves for awhile. Papyrus would focus on school and basketball practice, Sans would focus on work, and Dr. Gaster would focus on his labs.

The weekends, however, they were together.

The primary spot was the mansion, though Dr. Gaster enjoyed the apartment from time to time, citing that it seemed much cozier and welcoming than a big, empty mansion. The three would spend time together on a group date, a short weekend trip, or just veg out in the home of their choosing. Sans had been highly amused to find out Dr. Gaster was a closeted romcom fanatic who TOTALLY DIDN'T CRY during emotional scenes.

It was a bit tough when it came to one-on-one dates; Sans and Papyrus both had evenings and Sundays off and all three Skeletons didn't like the idea of leaving anyone behind. It was more often than naught that Papyrus voluntarily fell out, but Sans had practically shoved his protesting brother out the door more than once, so he felt it evened out.

Sometimes, to avoid any hurt feelings, Dr. Gaster would call it a night and the brothers would spend that time bonding over takeout and bad movies. So as to not leave Dr. Gaster COMPLETELY out, Papyrus would give the blow-by-blow on the terrible plotlines and complaints about the food while Sans in turn complained about Papyrus's lack of bad taste and lack of appreciation for ridiculous frivolity. In turn, Dr. Gaster would send flood their phones with horrible movie memes that had Sans howling with laughter and Papyrus howling with secondhand embarrassed rage.

So yeah. It was tricky working it out.

But while Sans blinked blearily at the end credits of a movie, snuggled under a blanket into one side of Dr. Gaster while his brother slept cuddled into the other side with the elder Skeleton dozing with an arm around each younger, he thought,

_'Yeah, it's worth it.'_

* * *

 

A bit down the line, Sans figured that patience and communication wasn't solving ALL of the problems between them.

For instance, Dr. Gaster's fiftieth birthday.

Papyrus was pouting on the couch, lying flat on his back and staring up at the phone he was holding up at arm's length. Sans glanced over, snorting. “Stare at it a little harder bro,” he said. “It might do a trick.”

“Oh ha-ha,” Papyrus retorted, sighing dramatically as he let one arm drop over his eye sockets. “Dr. Gaster STILL hasn't messaged me back with what he wants to do for his birthday!”

Sans sighed softly, turning his focus back to his computer. He wasn't all that surprised. Dr. Gaster had been edging around that subject for awhile now. “...you could kinda start by callin' him somethin' OTHER than 'Doctor Gaster',” he muttered, ducking when Papyrus threw a sock at him.

“He already SAID he doesn't mind that!” Papyrus huffed. “He says he finds it endearing.”

“Just sayin', maybe callin' him by his actual name might help.”

“Sans, I'm not going to even go into what does or does not define a virile man. What we call him has nothing to do with how he's feeling.” Papyrus sat up, sighing at his phone. “What he needs is us to remind him that we don't care how old he is, and that we love him for him.”

Sans snorted softly. “So, I'm guessin' he won't like the birthday card I got for him that says 'Better Over the Hill Than Under It'?” he replied. Papyrus rolled his eyelights.

“Knowing him, he'll laugh himself out of his funk,” he said, tapping away at his phone. “You and him are self-depreciating weirdos.”

Sans glanced up, his eyelights glinting. “Hey, you might be onto somethin' there bro,” he said, grinning. “Like, I could give him th' card, an' wear a shirt that says _'I like my men like I prefer my drinks: aged well and goes down smooth'._ ”

“OH MY GOD, SANS!” Papyrus screeched, blushing hard.

“Oh, like you're any better, prancing around in a dress calling him 'Daddy'!” Sans huffed. “Real young-makin' right there.” He leaned his head on his hand. “Just sayin', might as well exacerbate it an' get him as comfortable with it as we are until it just blows over, y'know?”

Papyrus's blush quelled slightly as he tapped around his phone, his embarrassment sliding into thoughtfulness. “...I have an idea,” he said, his eyelights gleaming mischievously. “But it will take all of your self-depreciation and love of situational exacerbation.” He grinned. “Are you up to it, Sans?”

“......I'm going to regret saying 'yes', aren't I?”

“Considering I'm definitely getting pictures, you bet you are.”

“.....Wingdings had best be grateful I love him so much.”

* * *

 

Dr. Gaster was mystified as to why Sans's car was parked out front, having figured the younger Skeleton would be at work today. In all honesty, he wanted to spend today alone.

His age seemed to crash into him the moment Papyrus had brought it up last month. It had suddenly hit him that he was fifty years old, with two nineteen-year-old and twenty-five-year-old lovers, and dear GODS, what was he doing? He was practically keeping them from life!

Dear Papyrus was still messaging him about doing something about his birthday, to the point where he had delved back into not replying back, to his shame. He hated ignoring texts from the young Skeleton, but it was just something he didn't want to think about. It was difficult enough getting the managers of his labs to not hold a birthday party, but it would be nearly impossible to deny doing something with his dearest boys.

Sans's car being here was scarcely subtle now; obviously, Sans wanted to do something for his birthday, and didn't think he'd be home this early.

…....gods, he hoped it wasn't a party.

Dr. Gaster walked inside, seeing everything just as it should be, and breathed a sigh of relief as he put his things down and began looking for Sans. The dining room, kitchen, study, and den were all empty, egging him on upstairs, feeling a flutter in his soul as he headed to his bedroom. He was getting an idea of what Sans was doing here, and sincerely hoped he was right.

Before he could get to his bedroom, he noticed that another door was open with soft humming coming from inside, seeing that it was Papyrus's old room—and the one he occasionally still used for sleepovers—and edged his way in.

Papyrus looked up when he saw Dr. Gaster's reflection in the mirror, turning around. “Oh, you're home!” he chirped, giving himself a little twirl. “Do you like it?”

The younger Skeleton was wearing a short frilly dress in a style somewhere between 'lolita' and 'French maid', made from shimmery gold taffeta with a neatly-tied bow in back and everything. Cute knee-high socks and mary jane shoes completed the outfit, by far the most adorable Papyrus had yet to wear.

Dr. Gaster looked Papyrus over twice—three times—more and nodded, smiling. “You look absolutely darling, Papyrus,” he said. “But shouldn't you be in school?”

Papyrus walked over, holding Dr. Gaster's arm as he led the old Skeleton out of the room. “It's a three-day weekend from school,” he replied. “A happy coincidence.” He leaned his head on Dr. Gaster's shoulder as he walked. “And in any case, there was NO way Sans and I would leave you alone on your birthday.”

“...Sans is here?” he asked. “...well, of course his car is here, I just assumed...”

“I have my own car now,” Papyrus put in. “But yes, we took his car here.” He came to a stop in front of Dr. Gaster's bedroom door, leaning up and kissing the doctor's cheekbone before undoing the bow around his middle and using it to cover Dr. Gaster's eye sockets. “And it's a birthday surprise. No peeking!”

Dr. Gaster smiled, indulging in Papyrus's game as he heard the younger Skeleton open his door and lead him carefully inside. Somewhere in the room, Dr. Gaster could feel Sans's aura, though he didn't know where the other Skeleton was and allowed himself to be maneuvered to stand somewhere.

“Ready, Daddy?” Papyrus purred next to his head, eliciting a small shudder of anticipation. Dr. Gaster nodded, and felt Papyrus loosen the blindfold and slip it away.

In front of him, sitting back on the bed, was Sans.

Wearing a frilly light blue dress, petticoats and all, complete with a matching blue blush across his cheekbones.

Sans's blush darkened as he shifted where he sat, the gesture almost coquettish had he not been obviously embarrassed by the fact that he was wearing a dress, and the frilliest one Papyrus HAD to pick out. He glanced up at Dr. Gaster, seeing the doctor's eyelights wide and glimmering with a growing dust of purple across his cheekbones.

Okay, THAT was adorable and worth being in a dress. He wondered how deep that blush would go, and decided to dive right into the prepared script, albeit with some embarrassed difficulty.

“Happy birthday,” he said, sounding more bashful than coy, though he felt the doctor appreciated the former rather than the latter. He paused for a moment before adding,

“...Daddy.”

Oh gods, did Dr. Gaster's eye socket just twitch?

Sans didn't have much time to wonder about that before the doctor practically pounced on him, sending them both sprawling back on the bed as he peppered the smaller Skeleton with kisses and light nips between uncouth giggling.

“You....you boys.....are simply.....the best....!” Dr. Gaster murmured before resting his skull against Sans's. “Just....I don't know what I've done....to deserve you two in my life....”

Sans blushed harder, curling his arms around Dr. Gaster. “....well, what kind of horrible shit did you do in a past life t' get stuck with two hellions?” he joked, grinning when Dr. Gaster snorted. “Oh, you like that one, huh? Well lemme tell you about how I love my men like my drinks—“

“Sans, don't ruin the moment with your smutty jokes!” Papyrus piped up from the other side of the room, not even TRYING to hide his cell phone's recording.

“Papyrus, we're adult Skeletons wearin' taffeta dresses with FRILLS who refer to this dignified gentleman as 'Daddy'. Compared to THAT, a fellatio joke is clean humor.”

“You're impossible!”

“Never thought I'd call YOU th' prude—“

“Boys.” Both of the younger Skeletons jumped at the authoritative tone Dr. Gaster addressed them with. Dr. Gaster sat up, crossing his arms almost sternly. “No more arguing on my birthday like children.” He waited until they both looked somewhat contrite before smirking. “Or _Daddy_ is going to have to punish you.”

Sans felt his face heat up with a blue blush. Oh good gods, what had he gotten himself into?

* * *

Heaven, he decided much later on that night as he nestled into Dr. Gaster's side, exhausted but still a little too wound up to sleep.

He had died and gotten himself into heaven.

Sans rubbed at his eye sockets, glancing over the doctor's rib cage at Papyrus, who was somehow sleeping peacefully despite still wearing the dress. He was a little too tired to wonder if he should be more embarrassed that his little brother had watched—and recorded—the whole thing, but figured he'd touch on that when he wasn't so exhausted.

He tugged the sheets up further and settled down to get some sleep, thinking that if he had really minded, he wouldn't be feeling so at peace.

And so, he slept.

Happy, and in heaven.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Golly, only an epilogue to go. This story turned out longer than I expected it to be.


	21. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the end! It's been great how much you all have liked and supported this fic, and I can't thank spoopy-gaster on tumblr enough for the inspiration and encouragement! Until next time, then!

“Papyrus Cancione Serif.”

Sans let out an unnecessarily-loud cheer when his little brother's name was called at graduation, fueled on by the bashful blush he could see on his brother's skull all the way from where he was sitting, cheering again when his brother was handed the diploma. Next to him, Dr. Gaster rolled his eyelights and pulled Sans to sit back down.

“Honestly, Sans,” he half-heartedly chastised as he applauded with everyone else, though not saying anymore considering the heaps of gifts, pictures, and one proud-crying spell he had for Papyrus earlier that day, and Sans knew it.

The two older Skeletons politely waited until the other graduates were called and cheered along with everyone else when the ceremony was concluded before hurrying off to find Papyrus. They didn't have to look long, when all seven feet of the youngest Skeleton bounded over and hugged them both tightly.

“We did it!” he crowed, laughing and crying at the same time as he tightened his hold around Dr. Gaster and Sans. “I graduated! We did it!”

“It was all you, bro,” Sans replied, patting his brother's back. “YOU did it, Papyrus.”

“And we're proud of you,” Dr. Gaster added, kissing Papyrus's skull. Papyrus beamed and blushed under the praise, hugging them tighter for a moment before breaking away and bidding them to hold on while he had a chat with his friends.

Sans sat back, crossing his arms as he looked after Papyrus fondly. “....it feels like literally a week ago I got custody of him after our folks fell down,” he said softly, his eye sockets dampening slightly. “...now he's graduating.”

Dr. Gaster sat down next to Sans, putting a comforting arm around him. “I know,” he said quietly. “But this means you did well. He's going to do great things now because of you.”

Sans wiped at his eye sockets. “....don't give me all that credit,” he murmured back. “Seriously...if it wasn't for you....gods, I don't know what would have become of us.” He leaned against Dr. Gaster, sighing heavily. “...I'd be miserable an' maybe workin' like three jobs, not knowin' ANYTHING about what was goin' on with Paps...” He took a shaky breath. “...that scares me more than anything. This day might not've even come...”

Dr. Gaster held Sans tightly. “Don't think about that,” he said. “It never happened. THIS is what's happening, Sans. You're both safe and happy. Papyrus graduated and he's going to do great things, no matter what it is he decides to settle with.” He kissed Sans's skull. “And no matter what, both of you have a home with me.”

Sans blushed, smiling. “...I know,” he said. “Love ya too, 'Dings.” He looked up when Papyrus hurried back over, wiping his face dry. “Let's go get ready for dinner.”

Dr. Gaster nodded, standing and leading the younger two off of the campus and to the waiting car.

 

* * *

 

Sans leaned back against his headboard as he typed away on his computer, wanting to follow Papyrus's example and get through a graduation of his own; he was less than a year from his doctorate that would qualify him for a higher position in the labs, and he had big aspirations to be a Lab Director one day. Dr. Gaster made mention of Sans perhaps one day inheriting the entire corporation, but it was only a mention.

….not a BAD mention, but Sans had no plans for THAT anytime soon.

He knew he should try to get some sleep soon; all three of them were heading out in the morning to go on a college road trip, and the train left the station at nine sharp. He yawned, saving his work and shutting down his laptop before clicking off the lamp and settling himself down into bed.

Several minutes later, a muffled ruckus had him grumpily fumbling for his phone and speed-dialing Papyrus's phone. He could hear the faintest resonance of Papyrus's obnoxious Mettaton ringtone for a couple seconds before the phone was answered.

“Y-yes, Sans...?” came Papyrus's stammer from the other end. “Is...is there something you—AH!—needed?”

“Yeah,” Sans groused, “could you an' Wingdings take that to HIS bedroom? I'm tryin' to sleep an' I can year ya through the goddamn wall!” He rubbed his eye sockets, ignoring the indignant, embarrassed squawk from the other end of the phone. “And why the hell are you pickin' up your phone when yer doin' that!”

“Go to sleep, Sans,” Dr. Gaster's voice came from the other end. “We'll keep it down. Love you.”

“I'm debatin' on that myself, tired as I am.” He huffed, his smile twitching. “...love ya too, 'Dings.” He ended the call, snuggling back into bed in, finally, blessed silence.

* * *

 

“Are you certain we have everything?”

“Everything I can have.” Sans took a cursory glance at everything before nodding. “We're good to go.”

“Alright then,” Dr. Gaster said, nodding to Felix as he slid into the limo where Papyrus was already waiting. Sans shut the trunk and sighed, glancing back at the mansion, having a moment of thought. It was silly to already be homesick when he knew he'd be back soon.

As much as an adult as he could possibly be, he positively DREADED being alone when Papyrus would be leaving for college in the midyear semester. Dr. Gaster sensed his dread and insisted that Sans move back in with him, something Sans didn't exactly try very hard to refuse.

Both of them felt they would need each other when Papyrus left; both of them knew for certain that perhaps at some point, Papyrus would broaden his world view and social circle, and perhaps even find someone else to love. It wasn't something they were going to push, though it was a very high possibility.

To Dr. Gaster, it would mean possibly letting go of a dear lover. To Sans, it meant his little brother possibly having more family to focus on.

It was a painful possibility, but a realistic one.

“Saaaaaaaaans!” Papyrus called from the back of the limo. “Hurry up, or we'll miss the train!”

Sans grinned, slipping into the limo. “If it means keeping my baby bro from leavin' me, then is it such a bad thing?” he half-joked. Papyrus huffed, but smiled a little.

“It's not like they don't have phones or computers or facetime,” he replied, hugging Sans. “Although I will be VERY sure to visit every single time I am able!”

Sans hugged Papyrus back. “Even from across th' whole country?” he asked.

“Please, Sans,” Dr. Gaster piped up, “you talk as though I won't pay for every plane ticket to or from.” He shut the doors, sitting back. “Now, let's be going.”

“YES, LET'S!” Papyrus exclaimed, flopping back next to Dr. Gaster. “I can't WAIT to find my new school!” Sans snorted, though his grin flickered slightly. In a way, he felt as scared and uncertain as he had the moment he had when he was fired from his job that day. But unlike then, he knew for a fact that everything was alright.

Sans sat back and stared out the window as Felix drove out of the estate, feeling Dr. Gaster's hand claim his own in a comforting hold, and smiled as he kept his eyelights on the mansion until it vanished from view.

 


End file.
